IV! 



Hollinger Corp. 
pH 8.5 



Price, 25 cents 




PUBLISHED BY 

The, Dramatic Publishing Company 

CHARLES H 5ERGEL , PRESIDENT 



b 



CAST OF CHARACTERS. 



David Moore, of Maple Farm Cottage, 

Susan Moore, his wife, 

Elizabeth, their daughter, 

Jerry, their son, 

Rev. Dr. Templeton, a young divine, 

Miss Arabella, the village newspaper, 

John Ryder, the young master of The Maples, 

Wandering Tom, a mystery, 

Old Morse, his companion, 

Nell, "The dust of the earth." 






ACT I 
EXTERIOR OF MAPLE FARM 

ACT II 
INTERIOR OF MAPLE FARM COTTAGE 

ACT III 
WANDERING TOM'S CABIN 

ACT IV 
SAME AS ACT II 



Copyright, 1908, by Katharine Kavanangh. 
Copyright, 1911, by The Dramatic Publishing Company. 



Notice. — The professional acting rights of this play are re- 
served by the publishers, from whom written permission must be 
obtained before performance. All persons giving unauthorized 
productions will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. This 
notice does not apply to amateurs, who may perform the play 
without permission. 



©CI.D 28130 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 



ACT THE FIRST 

Exterior of Maple Farm. September. House r. Rustic 
fence rear, with gate c. A tree down l. with rustic bench 
beneath it. 

At rise of curtain, Jerry is seated on stage c. engaged 
in mending fishing rod. 

Jerry. I'll be durned if I can fix this thing. 

[Enter David Moore from house, stands on porch.~\ 

David. What are you doin' there, boy? '• 

Jerry. Hello, Pop. Gettin' ready to go fishing but I 
reckon the fish will get tired waitin' by the time I get 
through with this thing. 

David. [Coming doivn r. c] Don't you ever think it 
worth while to do anything else but go fishin' ? 

Jerry. There ain't nothin' else worth while doin'. Be- 
sides, them fish would get lonesome if I didn't go down once 
in a while and bring a few of 'em home with me. 

[Enter Elizabeth/ through gate, carries few letters in 

her hand.] 

Elizabeth. Good morning, father. 

David. Mornin', daughter ; where have you been ? 

Elizabeth, To the post-office; here's a letter for you — 
looks like an advertisement. [Gives David letter, crosses in 
front of him to the house r.] 

David. [Glances at letter, puts it in his pocket.] Yep, 
shouldn't be surprised. Where's Nellie? 

Elizabeth. Oh, nobody ever knows where she is, or what 

3 



4 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

she's doing. I know where she ought to be — in the house 
helping mother with the work. 

Jerry. [Still engaged with fishing tackle.] What's mat- 
ter with you helpin' mother? 

Elizabeth. I'm not a servant — and she is. 

David. Now, that'll do, daughter. Nellie is no more of a 
servant than you are. I expect you both to help mother 
when she needs help, but it does seem to me you do very 
little. 

Jerry. Yep — and Nell is always hustling. 

Elizabeth. Mother doesn't want me to do housework. 
Besides, that girl ought to be glad of the chance. What is 
she, anyway? 

David. She is your cousin, and my dead sister's child. 
She's as welcome to a home under my roof as one of my own 
children, and I won't have her treated as an outcast. 

Elizabeth. Oh, well, you always did show partiality 
where she was concerned. [Enters house r.] 

[David goes up stage, looks off l.] 

Jerry. Aw, Sis makes me tired. She's always pickin' 
on Nell. 

David. Here comes the Minister — walkin' right fast, too. 
I shouldn't wonder if he'd been trying to catch up with 
Elizabeth. 

Jerry. Yep — he's stuck on Sis — didn't you know it ? 

David. Hush — he'll hear you. 

[Enter Rev. Dr. Templeton, c. — shakes hands with 

David.] 

Dr. Templeton. Good morning, Mr. Moore. 

David. Dr. Templeton — good morning, sir — glad to see 
you. 

Dr. Templeton. Thank you, Mr. Moore. I'm always 
sure of a welcome here. [Comes doxmi l. c. glancing casu- 
ally toward house.] I thought I saw your daughter walking 
ahead of me. I tried to overtake her, but she is a better 
pedestrian than I am. 

Jerry. [Gathering up his fishing tackle.] Yep — you 
know Sis went to a boardin' school and took physical tor- 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 5 

ture. Why — every mornin' as soon as she wakes up, she 
stretches out in bed and kicks one leg up in the air and — 
David. Jerry ! You young rascal. Remember Dr. Tem- 
pleton's presence. 

[Dr. Templeton turns aside to hide a smile."\ , 

Jerry. [Getting on his feet.~\ I thought he'd like to 
hear about it. [Goes up c] Well, so long — I'm goin' fishin'. 

Dr. Templeton. I wish you luck, Jerry. 

Jerry. [With significant look toward house.] Thanks — 
same to you. [Exits c. going off r.] 

Dr. Templeton. [Aside.] The young rascal — how did 
he know what I came for. 

David. You mustn't mind Jerry, Dr. Templeton. Some- 
times I think he ain't altogether right. 

Dr. Templeton. On the contrary, I think he's a very in- 
telligent boy. You may have remarked, Mr. Moore, that my 
visits here have been rather frequent since your daughter's 
return from boarding school. 

David. Well, to tell you the truth, sir, we're always so 
glad to have you that it don't seem as if you can come often 
enough. 

Dr. Templeton. Now, that's putting it nicely. But — 
has it struck you that I might have had a particular object 
in coming? 

David. Well — I did fancy once or twice that Elizabeth 
might have had something to do with it. 

Dr. Templeton. [Laughs.] There — you've helped me 
out of the hole. I didn't know just how to come to the 
point. It is true, sir, Elizabeth has been the lodestar that 
has drawn me here, and I have come today for the special 
purpose of asking for her hand. 

David. Well, of course I can't say about Elizabeth's, but 
there's my hand, sir [Gives Templeton his hand in a hearty 
grasp], and I'll be proud and happy to call the Rev. Dr. 
Templeton my son-in-law. 

Dr. Templeton. Indeed, I thank you. I only hope 
Elizabeth's will be given as readily. I would not have 
spoken so soon but that I feared a possible rival. [Turns 
toward bench l.] 

David. And who might that be? 



6 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

Dr. Templeton,, John Ryder, the young master of The 
Maples. I have seen him coming here quite often lately. 

David. Oh, yes, he gets lonesome up at the big house 
and comes down here for company. You see, this farm is 
part of the Maples estate. 

Dr. Templeton. I believe he has been in Europe for 
quite a long time. 

David. Yes. That family always were great ones for 
rambling over the face of the earth. Why, the Maples is 
the handsomest estate in the county, and yet for the last 
fifteen years not one of them has lived there long enough 
for the country people to get acquainted with them. 

Dr. Templeton. Who was the owner of the property 
before this young man came into possession? [Sits on 
bench.'] 

David. [Sits on porch r.] Well, there's a story con- 
nected with that. You see this young Ryder is only a dis- 
tant relation of the original owners; their name was Os- 
bourne. The last one of that name that I remember was 
young Tom Osbourne. About eighteen years ago he lived 
up at the big house with his mother. They were great 
swells in those days — used to entertain a lot — always had 
the house full of company. I remember seeing young 
Thomas Osbourne riding about the country on horseback — 
and I tell you he could ride. 

Dr. Templeton. Did you know him well? 

David. Oh, Lord, no. They were too high-tone for us. 
My sister Eleanor used to go up to the house, sometimes 
when they had company to help Mrs. Osbourne — sort of 
acted as lady's maid on big occasions. Eleanor was a very 
pretty girl and Mrs. Osbourne sort of took a fancy to her. 
But the rest of us never got to know them at all. 

Dr. Templeton. Then Thomas Osbourne at that time was 
the heir to the estate. Did he marry? 

David. No. There was some talk of a wedding at one 
time — his mother at last found someone she thought good 
enough for him — some rich New Yorker's daughter — but 
young Tom balked and stopped the arrangements. 

Dr. Templeton. I presume he wanted to do his own 
choosing. I don't blame him. 

David. Oh, it raised a great row. His mother and him 






THE DUST OF THE EARTH 7 

thought a heap of each other, but they had a big fuss and 
parted in anger. Young Tom left home, and Mrs. Osbourne 
was ill for months afterwards. 

Dr. Templeton. It must have been a great disappoint- 
ment to her. Did she recover? 

David. Not altogether. After a time the doctor recom- 
mended a trip abroad. Of course, when he learned his 
mother was ill, young Tom came home, and soon as she was 
able to travel he took her to Europe. Well — that's the last 
we ever saw of them. 

Dr. Templeton. Did they both die there? 
David. Yes. The son met with an accident while moun- 
tain climbing in Switzerland — fell from a cliff — and his 
body was never recovered. 

Dr. Templeton. Never recovered ? Why, that's remark- 
able. 

David. Yes — somethin' mysterious about it. Well, the 
shock killed the mother, and the property up on the hill 
went to another branch of the family — the Ryders, 

Dr. Templeton. And for seventeen years no trace of 
Thomas Osbourne has been found? 

David. No. He's been long since given up as dead. I 
remember so well the summer he left here. It was the 
same year my sister Eleanor went away. 

Dr. Templeton. [Rising.] That's a very interesting 
story, and I thank you for telling me. But I had forgotten. 
I was so wrapped up in my own affairs that the other matter 
had entirely escaped my mind. Mrs. Moore expressed a 
desire to see me today — I think it is in regard to your niece, 
Nellie. 

David. [Goes c. to Templeton.] Now, don't take 
Susan serious when she begins to harp on Nell. She's just 
got into the habit of finding fault with the girl when there's 
really no occasion for it. The child is a little hoydenish, I 
admit — but she'll outgrow that. She has never had a mother 
to train her, and I don't think Susan goes about it in the 
right Way. 

Dr. Templeton. Her mother died when Nell was a baby, 
did she not? 

David. Yes. [Pause.] I wonder if you've heard any of 
Nell's history? 



.8 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

Dr. Templeton. Well, I did come across some story 
about her mother, but then one need not believe all one 
hears. 

David. I know what they say down in the village, but it 
ain't true. Eleanor did run away from home when she was 
a girl of eighteen — but no one knows with whom. 

Dr. Templeton. I understood you to say it was the 
same year young Thomas Osbourne quarreled with his 
mother and left home? 

David. Yes. 

Dr. Templeton. Did it ever occur to you they might 
have gone together? 

David. Lord, no. Why, they hardly knew each other. 

Dr. Templeton. And you have never learned who it 
was your sister went away with ? 

David. No. For two years we lost trace of her. One 
Christmas night she came back. It was snowing hard, and 
when we opened the door, she fell fainting across the floor. 
In her arms she carried Nellie, just a bit of a thing, half 
dead from exposure. Eleanor died a few days after that, 
without divulging the name of Nellie's father. She left no 
inheritance to her child but the gown she wore and a little 
chain and locket that was about her neck. 

Dr. Templeton. Her wedding ring? 

David. She wore none. The little girl I have tried to 
raise as my own, but Susan has fought against it all these 
years, and now that both our girls are nearing woman- 
hood, her hatred of Nell is almost inconceivable. Of course 
the townspeople have handed the story from one to another 
until it is pretty well known, and Susan feels the disgrace 
of it. But the child is innocent, and no matter what any- 
one says, I knew my sister Eleanor, and I'll swear she was 
a good woman. 

Dr. Templeton. And so will I, Mr. Moore — though I 
only know her brother. [Takes David's hand.'] 

David. Thanks. Will you come in and see Susan? 

Dr. Templeton. I wonder if she would come out here 
to me. I should like to hear her side of the story where 1 
have listened to yours. 

David. Good. I'll send her to you. [Exit into house r.] 

Dr. Templeton. The same old storv since the world 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 9 

began. Woman's trust — man's perfidy. Will the God who 
judges all things not see and understand? 

[Enter Susan from house — comes down r. c] 

Susan. Ah, Dr. Templeton, David told me you were 
here. [Shakes hands.] 

Dr. Templeton. I was glad to come, Mrs. Moore; if I 
can be of any service to you — you have but to name it. 

Susan. Well, it's about that girl, Nellie. 

Dr. Templeton. Your niece? 

Susan. My husband's niece — not mine, thank Heaven. 
If I had had my way in the beginning, she should have 
been sent to an orphanage. But David wouldn't hear of it, 
and the consequence is, I've had to raise the girl in my own 
home and have her associate with my own children. Eliza- 
beth — thank Heaven — is so far above her that her evil 
influence cannot touch her, but Jerry she has contaminated 
since the day she was able to speak. 

Dr. Templeton. But what has she done? 

Susan. Done? She does everything she shouldn't do. 
For half a day at a time I don't know where she is — or 
what she is doing. This morning after she finished the 
breakfast dishes, she disappeared, and no one has seen her 
since — and the house full of work to be done. Another 
thing, she is impudent, she is disobedient, she uses bad 
language; she is everything she shouldn't be — her mother 
was no good before her — she's sprung from a bad source — 
she's simply the dust of the earth. 

Dr. Templeton. Are you sure she is all bad? Have you 
never tried to find any good in her? 

Susan. There's no good there — what is the use of looking 
for it? Why, on Sundays I simply have to drive her to 
church, and did you notice her last Sunday during your 
sermon? She stared out of the window the whole blessed 
time. 

Dr. Templeton. But she may have been listening, never- 
theless. 

Susan. She was not. When I got her home I told her 
about it; she said there was a bird singing out there that 
beat your sermon all to pieces. Then I asked her to tell 



10 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

me what the sermon was about — what do you think she 
said ? 

Dr. Templeton. I'm sure I can't say. 

Susan. She'd be doggoned if she knew. Now, what do 
you think of that? 

Dr. Templeton. Very reprehensible indeed. But if I 
am not mistaken, there were other of my listeners who might 
have said the same thing had they been just as truthful. 
What do you want me to do in the matter? 

Susan. I want you to find her a home away from here — 
she must leave my house — she torments my daughter and is 
ruining my son — and she's got to go. 

Dr. Templeton. But don't you think your husband is 
the one to decide this for you ? 

Susan. No, David won't listen to it. But if you advise 
it, he might. There are lots of families who would take 
her in their kitchen. She can work when she wants to. 

Dr. Templeton. But before going to this length, won't 
you try what kindness will do? All of us have a good and 
a bad side. Perhaps you have only succeeded in finding the 
bad. Now, look for the good and see what success you will 
have. Remember, she is a waif, thrown upon the mercy of 
others, without the protection of a father's name or the 
safeguard of a mother's love. Who knows but that all these 
years since she left her in your hands, that mother has been 
asking God's blessing — 

Susan. Her mother! 

Dr. Templeton. [Raises his hand to silence her.] Yes, 
we must not judge too harshly. She may have been more 
sinned against than sinning. No matter what else she was, 
she was a mother; and that is a great deal in God's eyes. 
I will wait and speak to Nellie — and together we will see 
what can be done to make her a better girl. 

Susan. [Disappointed.] Well, of course, I suppose I 
needn't have expected a man to understand my side of it. 
Now a woman would. I expect I shall have to keep her 
here until she disgraces my home just as her mother did. 
[Exit into house r.] 

Dr. Templeton. [Goes to bench l. sits.] Poor little 
motherless waif. What shall I say to her — how shall I 
reach her heart? 



THE BUST OF THE EARTH 11 

[Nellie runs on from r. climbs over fence, she comes down 
stage quietly, looking toward house; when she gets al- 
most within arm's length of Templeton, she sees 
him, and makes a quick turn, going on tiptoes 
toward house. When she gets to porch, he 
looks up and calls her. She turns ab- 
ruptly and laughs.~\ 

Dr. Templeton. Nellie ! 

Nell. Hello,, Minister — I didn't think you saw me. 

Dr. Templeton. And so you were running away? 

Nell. [Coming toward him.~] Well, I know I'm in for 
one sermon from Aunt Sue, and I wasn't just hankerin' for 
another. 

Dr. Templeton. Where have you been? 

Nell. You won't tell Aunt Sue if I tell you, will you? 

Dr. Templeton. I promise not to tell. 

Nell. Well, I've been up in the hayloft. 

Dr. Templeton. In the hayloft — what were you doing 
up there? 

Nell. Readin'. [Takes small book from apron pocket.] 
See that — I read all that this morning. [Opens book and 
indicates.] If I can sneak off tomorrow mornin' the same 
way I reckon I can finish it, don't you? 

Dr. Templeton. [Looking at book.] Alice in Wonder- 
land. That's a very pretty story. Where did you get it? 

Nell. From Mr. Ryder. 

Dr. Templeton. John Ryder, of The Maples. 

Nell. Yes. Oh, he's got loads of books in his library up 
at the big house ; he says I can have any one I want. 

Dr. Templeton. And do you always run away to the 
hayloft to read? 

Nell. No. Mostly I go to Wandering Tom's cabin; 
it's nice and quiet there, and besides, he likes me to come. 

Dr. Templeton. Wandering Tom. He's that pathetic 
old character that seems constantly searching for something. 
What is it he has lost ? 

Nell. Nobody knows. And he can't remember. Some- 
times he looks at me so pitiful I almost want to cry. Where 
do you think I saw him yesterday ? 

Dr. Templeton. I don't know. 



12 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

Nell. Up at the big house, looking through the windows. 

Dr. Templeton'. At The Maples? 

Nell. Yes. I said, "What are you doing, Mr. Tom?" He 
said, "Why do they keep the place so dark; where are all 
the lights and music?" Now, wasn't that a funny thing to 
say? 

Dr. Templeton. Yes. He is full of strange ideas. He 
seems to see things that we do not. 

Nell. And sometimes he talks to himself, too. I heard 
him one day down by the river; he was walking up and 
down under the willows, and he kept saying to himself: 
"If I only could remember; if I only could remember." I 
think that's awful strange, don't you ? 

Dr. Templeton. Very strange indeed. There is some 
sad story in his life that he is trying to recall. I have 
heard of sudden loss of memory occasioned by an accident 
or a severe illness. That is probably what Wandering Tom 
is suffering from. Doesn't anyone know who he is? 

Nell. No, not even old Mose who has lived with him 
and looked after him all these years. 

Dr. Templeton. That's the old darkey? 

Nell. A-hah. I mean, yes, sir — excuse me. 

Dr. Templeton. And he has no friend but that old 
colored man? 

Nell. Oh, yes, he's got me. I'm his friend, and he likes 
me, too. 

Dr. Templeton. Yes, I fancy you could make anyone 
like you when you behave yourself. 

Nell. [Movirig away.~\ Well, I guess I got to go now. 

Dr. Templeton. Oh, no, you don't. Come back here. 
I've got something more to say to you. 

Nell. Gee — I thought I'd talked you out of it. Well, 
what's the complaint this time? 

Dr. Templeton. Your aunt says that all during my 
sermon last Sunday you stared out of the window, and when 
you got home you didn't know one word I had said. 

Nell. Yes, I did, too — every word of it. 

Dr. Templeton. Then why did you stare out of the win- 
dow while I was speaking ? 

Nell. I had to — to keep the tears from comin'. It was 
all about mothers — and love — and I sat there and thought 



THE BUST OF THE EARTH 13 

of my mother — and — oh, I wanted her — I wanted her. 
[Cries.] 

Dr. Templeton. [Softly.] Why didn't you tell your 
aunt this when she asked you ? 

Nell. Because she never believes me when I tell her 
the truth — and besides, she would have insulted my mother 
again — 

Dr. Templeton. Insulted your mother? 

Nell. Yes — she says she was no good — and that I'm just 
like her. 

Dr. Templeton. Now, Nellie, I want you to promise 
that you will do your best to please Aunt Susan. Try to be 
more obedient — try not to be impertinent — in fact try all 
your might to be a very good girl. 

Nell. Aunt Sue says there's no good in me; I never was 
any good, and I never will be any good. She says I'm 
goin' to hell anyway, so what's the use. 

Dr. Templeton. And she tells me you don't say your 
prayers — you don't want to go to church — you never read 
the Bible — in fact, you don't care for anything that's re- 
ligious. 

Nell. Oh, yes, I do, too. 

Dr. Templeton. Indeed — what is it? 

Nell. I like ministers. 

Dr. Templeton. [Laughs.] Bless my soul. Then 
there's some hope for you. Will you try to do what I advise, 
Nellie? . 

Nell. You won't scold or preach, will you? 

Dr. Templeton. No, child, I am going to try what a 
little kindness will do. 

[Enter Elizabeth from house. Calls sharply.] 

Elizabeth. Nell! Mother wants you. 

Nell. What for? 

Elizabeth. That's not for you to ask. [Comes down r. 
c] I suppose Dr. Templeton can spare you long enough 
to find out. 

Nell. [Crosses to house.] I guess I got to go, you'll 
tell me the rest some other time, won't you? [Exit.] 

Elizabeth. I didn't know that you and she were,/ such 
good friends, Dr. Templeton. 



14 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

Dr. Templeton. I have never felt otherwise than 
friendly toward the child. 

Elizabeth. Child? She's no child. She's within a year 
of my age — you don't call me a child; do you ? 

Templeton. Decidedly not. And to prove it I am going 
to speak to you on a very important subject. 

Elizabeth. Important? 

Dr. Templeton. Yes — to me. I am going to ask you to 
marry me, Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth. Dr. Templeton ! 

Dr. Templeton. Yes, I know I speak bluntly. I never 
could beat about the bush. Will you be just as frank, 
Elizabeth? 

Elizabeth. Well, I don't know — really — you've taken 
me by surprise. 

Dr. Templeton. What do you think I've been coming 
here almost every day for? 

Elizabeth. I thought you were interested in our spiritual 
welfare. 

Dr. Templeton. Well, perhaps I was — but I was more 
interested in you personally. The parsonage wants a mis- 
tress — will you come? 

Elizabeth. I'm afraid I am not ready to answer you, 
Dr. Templeton. I hadn't thought of you in that light be- 
fore. 

Dr. Templeton. Had you thought of any one else? 

Elizabeth. I know so few men. 

Dr. Templeton. There's John Ryder. Does he come 
here to see you? 

Elizabeth. I don't think Mr. Ryder comes to see any 
one in particular. 

Dr. Templeton. Then there's no serious obstacle to 
your considering my proposition ? 

Elizabeth. No — but I can't decide so quickly. You 
must give me time. 

Dr. Templeton. Of course — I didn't expect to propose 
one day and be married the next. But you won't keep me 
waiting long, will you, Elizabeth? 

Elizabeth. This is September. Give me until Christ- 
mas. s 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 15 

" Dr. Templeton. Well, that's long enough, goodness 
knows. I haven't made love to you, dear; well, perhaps I 
don't know how; but I do care for you more than for any- 
thing else in the world. You will think of that between 
now and Christmas, won't you? 

Elizabeth. Yes. 

Dr. Templeton. I want you to turn and look at me. [He 
places hands on her shoulders and turns her to face him.] 
They say a woman's eyes are more truthful than her tongue. 
Yours don't look very encouraging, Elizabeth. 

Elizabeth. [Smiling.] You must give them more time. 

Dr. Templeton. And so I will. I shall wait patiently 
until Christmas for your answer and in the meantime pray 
that it will be favorable. May I see you again tomorrow? 

Elizabeth. Certainly — if you wish. 

Dr. Templeton. Then I will leave you in peace for 
today. [Raises her hand to his lips.~\ Good-bye, Eliza- 
beth. 

Elizabeth. Good-bye, Dr. Templeton. [Templeton 
exit c. going l.] What made him think of John Ryder? 

Susan. [Enters from house — pauses on porch.] Has 
Dr. Templeton gone? 

Elizabeth. Yes, mother; and what do you think has 
happened? I've had a proposal. 

Susan. A proposal. Not Dr. Templeton? 

Elizabeth. Yes — who else? 

Susan. - [Comes down and kisses Elizabeth.] My dear 
child, I congratulate you. 

Elizabeth. Not so quick — I haven't accepted him yet. 

Susan. Not accepted him. Why, child, what are you 
thinking of? Of course, accept him. It's a splendid chance. 
Think of being mistress of that beautiful parsonage. 

Elizabeth. But suppose I could do better? 

Susan. I don't understand. 

Elizabeth. What would you say to being mistress of 
The Maples ? 

Susan. The Maples — that is out of the question, child; 
you are mad to dream of such a thing. 

Elizabeth. You are blind, mother. What do you sup- 
pose John Ryder comes here so often for? To see you or 



M THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

father — or to look at the crops? He is all alone up there 
[Points l.] except for the servants — the place wants a mis- 
tress, and he is not looking anywhere else for her. 

Susan. Bless me, I never thought of it. Why, Elizabeth, 
it would be almost too good to be true. But what about Dr. 
Templeton ? 

Elizabeth. I have held him off until Christmas. That 
will give John Ryder plenty of time — and I will see that he 
has the opportunities. 

Susan. Elizabeth — you always were a clever girl. Why, 
I'd be so proud to see you mistress of that beautiful old 
place — I wouldn't know what to do. 

Elizabeth. It won't be my fault if I'm not. 

Susan. I declare, I'm so flustrated at the thought of it. 
Elizabeth, if he comes here this morning try to make him 
stay to dinner. I'll go in and prepare something nice. 

[Goes quickly into house.] 

9 / 

Elizabeth. [On porch, about to enter house.] Mistress 
of The Maples. If it would only come true. 

[Enter Mose and Wandering Tom, from l. Enter at gate, 
but remain up stage.] 

Mose. [Calls as Elizabeth is about to enter house.] 
Missy ! 

[Elizabeth turns and sees them; she looks at them with 

dislike.] 

Elizabeth. Well, what do you want? 

Mose. If yo' please, Miss — Mr. Tom here — he wants to 
see the little lady — Missy Nell. 

Elizabeth. Little lady indeed. That's rich. [Laughs.] 
And so you are her friends, are you — an imbecile and a 
nigger. 

Mose. Yes, missy — I'm a nigger — but I can't help dat — 
God made me a nigger, just like he make some people 
heartless. And dis yer am Mr. Tom. He ain't no im-be-cile ; 
no mam, he's jist wanderin' in his head a little — but he's 
got a good heart — and he's a genlum — Mr. Tom is — he's 
a genlum — yes, mam. 

Elizabeth. And so you want to see Nell, do you? 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 17 

Mose. Y-yes, mam. Mr. Tom — he ain't feelin' so well 
today — and he just got a longin' to see dat chile; she didn't 
come to the cabin this morning and he didn't give me no 
rest till I bring him yer. 

Elizabeth. So there's where she spends her time, is it — 
associating with you two old tramps. Well, I'll tell mother, 
and she'll soon put a stop to it. 

Tom. Miss — I don't understand all you say — but I think 
your intention is to insult us. I may be an old tramp now, 
but I was once a gentleman. I have had a great loss — 
I can't remember what it is — but some day it will all come 
back to me; I know it — I feel it; and the little girl helps 
me somehow — she helps me to remember. Sometimes I 
think it will be through her that I will regain what I have 
lost. 

Mose. Yes'm — dat's a fact — he always do say dat — so 
won't you please be so kind and let him see her. 

Elizabeth. Certainly not — and what is more — don't you 
two ever dare come here again. The idea. It's bad enough 
to have to put up with her — let alone her friends. Now, 
you two go. 

Mose. [Pauses — then quietly turns to Mr. Tom.] Yes, 
mam. I'm very sorry we done intrude. I hopes you'll ex- 
cuse us. Come, Master Tom — we can't see Missy Nell to- 
day — de lady say we got to go. 

Tom. I thank you, madame, for your courtesy. Good- 
day. [Makes an old-fashioned bow, and turns with Mose 
toward the gate. They are both old and slow in movement. 
As they reach gate, Nell enters from behind house r.] 

Nell. Mr. Tom — Mose — where are you going? 

Mose. [Turns at Nell's •voice.'} We goin' back home, 
Missy; dis lady say so. 

Nell. [Turns toward Elizabeth, who is on porch.] 
You didn't dare drive them away ? 

Elizabeth. Dare? Who are you talking to? Of course 
I drove them away. The disreputable looking beggars. 

Nell. [Turns to Tom and Mose.] Oh, Mr. Tom — I'm 
so sorry — please don't mind her — she don't know any bet- 
ter. [To Elizabeth.] They're not beggars; they haven't 
asked you for anything, have they? 

Mose. No'm — I specks we wouldn't get it nohow. 



18 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

Elizabeth. If they are not beggars — what are they? 
Nell. They are ray friends; that's what they are. 

[Nell is c] 

Elizabeth. [Comes down facing Nell.] Well, your 
friends are no more welcome here than you are; and if any 
more of your friends call I'll have them put off the place, 
do you understand ? 

[John Ryder enters at gate to hear the last part of Eliza- 
beth's speech.] 

Ryder. Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Miss Elizabeth; be- 
cause I am a friend of Nell. [Takes Nell's hand.] 

Elizabeth. [Startled.] Mr. Ryder. [Turns toward 
house R.] 

Mose. Please 'scuse us, Missy — we don't want to cause 
no trouble — I reckon me and Master Tom just trot along 
home, yes'm. [Start off through gate going l.] 

Nell. Wait, Mose — I'll go as far as the cabin with you. 

[Starts to follow them.] 

Ryder. And I'll go too, Nell. 

Nell. Oh, will you? Then I reckon I'd better take off 
this old apron. [Unfastens apron and throws it over 
bench l.] 

Ryder. In my honor? Why — I'm flattered. 

Nell. Oh, I couldn't take a stroll with a fine gentle- 
man like you wearing a thing like that. 

[They start off, hand in hand, laughing and chatting 

happily.] 

[Elizabeth has stood quietly by in an angry mood. After 
they go off, she goes up stage and looks after them.] 

Elizabeth. He never even looked at me. It's that worth- 
less girl he comes to see. I'll not stand for it — if she stays 
in this house, I won't. [Goes to house, calls.] Mother; 
come here, I want you. [Goes up stage and looks off l.] 

[Enter Susan quickly from house.] 

Susan. What is it, Elizabeth? 

Elizabeth. Come here — I want to show you something. 






THE DUST OF THE EARTH 19 

[Susan joins her up stage.] Look there. [Points off l.] 

Susan. Why — who is it — Nell — and who's that with 
her? 

Elizabeth. John Ryder. 

Susan. Mr. Ryder? 

Elizabeth. Yes — she took him off with her before my 
very eyes. I'm tired of her forever standing in my way. 
You've got to do something to get rid of her — or I leave 
this house. 

Susan. My dear child — what more can I do? I've tried 
to send her away — but your father won't hear of it. 

Elizabeth. [Looks at apron — an idea comes to her.] 
If I find a way, will you help me? 

Susan. Of course I will; but what will you do? 

Elizabeth. Leave that to me. Where is father? 

Susan. In his room. 

Elizabeth. In ten minutes I will go to him and make a 
charge against her. No matter what I say, bear me out 
in it. 

Susan. But what charge will you make? 

Elizabeth. Wait. [Looks quickly to see that no one is 
about. Then takes off her ring, draws her mother's atten- 
tion to it, goes over to bench and slips the ring into pocket 
of Nell's apron.] You see? 

Susan. I understand. [Exit into house.] 

Elizabeth. [About to enter house — pauses.] Father 
hates a thief. [Exit into house.] 

[Enter Jerry from r. comes through gate c] 

Jerry. Doggone it- — somebody must have gone and told 
them fish I was comin'— 'cause dey had all gone visiting 
somewheres else. If Ma sees dis fishin' rod — she'll give 
me hallelujah — but she ain't goin' to see it. [Places it 
behind house. Turns to look off l.] Gee — yer comes Miss 
Arabella — I bet she's so full of news she's ready to bust. 
[Enter Arabella from l.. through gate. Very excited.] 

Arabella. Jerry — where's your mother? 

Jerry. In the house — walk right in. 

Arabella. I ain't got time. Go find her quick — I've got 
the biggest piece of news ! 



20 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

Jerry. Tell me — I'll give it to her. 

Arabella. Tell you indeed— after almost walkin' my 
legs off to tell her myself. Besides, it's not for your ears 
to hear. 

Jerry. See here — you ain't come yer complainin' on me, 
are you? 

Arabella. Boy, I've been dispensing news for the last 
twenty years, and I ain't never been fool enough yet to 
complain to a mother about her only son. [Jerry exit into 
house.] They say I'm a walkin' newspaper. Well, I'd like 
to know how folks is goin' to find out what's goin' on in their 
midst if it wasn't for me. I've got no patience with them 
women as is content to sit at home and mind their own busi- 
ness, and never take an interest in their neighbors' affairs; 
land sakes, I'd just as soon be dead. 

Susan. [At door.l Well, Arabella, what's the trouble? 

Arabella. No trouble at all — unless you call twins 
trouble — Mrs. Hammond has got twins. Ain't it awful, 
Susan? 

Susan. What — two? 

Arabella. Now, Susan Moore, one would think you had 
better sense than to make a remark like that. You ought 
to know by this time that twins — like misfortunes — never 
come one at a time. 

Susan. Where have you been keeping yourself, Ara- 
bella ? I haven't seen you since the church strawberry festi- 
val. 

Arabella. Land sakes — how about that fesitval. Did 
you ever see such a messy affair in all your born days. 
Well, sir, when I walks into that supper room and saw 
Amy Lee Smithkins presiding at that table, I says to my- 
self, Arabella, I says, this is no place for you, and out I 
goes. I steps over to Mrs. Thomas's and visited with her 
about two hours. You know she's paralyzed and couldn't 
go to the strawberry festival. I told her I thought she 
was lucky. Do you know, Susan, I never knew a woman 
to get so much pleasure out of paralysis as she does. 

Susan. Pleasure? 

Arabella. I mean talkin' about it. Every time you see 
her she begins at the beginning and explains and describes 
every symptom, pain and ache she's had for the last twenty 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 21 

years. I give you my word, she's the only woman in this 
neighborhood that can beat me talkin'. 

Susan. I'm baking, Arabella; won't you come back in the 
kitchen ? 

Arabella. No, thank you; I just stopped in to give you 
the news. I must hurry on to Mrs. Green's. You know 
she hasn't heard about Mrs. Hammond and I don't want 
anybody to get there before I do. Good-bye until I see you 
again. [Exit l.] 

Susan. Good-bye, Arabella. [Enters house.] 

[Enter Ryder and Nell l.] 

Ryder. [Looks after Arabella.] Who is that fussy 
little person? 

Nell. [Picks up apron and begins to put it on.] Miss 
Arabella is her name, but they call her lots of other things; 
the village newspaper, and bureau of information, and things 
like that. 

Ryder. Let me fasten that for you. [Fastens top 
button of apron.] And so you liked Alice in Wonderland? 

Nell. Oh, yes, but I haven't quite finished it. You 
don't want it back yet, do you ? 

Ryder. Dear, no; keep it as long as you like. But I've 
brought you another book today. [Takes book from pocket.] 

Nell. Oh, have you; I'm so glad; what's it about? 

Ryder. It's a love story. [Puts his hands on her shoul- 
ders, looks into her face.] Do you know what that is? 

Nell. Well, I ain't quite sure. 

Ryder. You will some day; and I hope yours, when it 
comes, will be as interesting and as beautiful as this is. 

[Gives her book.] 

Nell. [Glances through book.] Oh, I know I'm going 
to like it. 

[Enter Jerry from house.] 

Jerry. Hello, people. 

Nell. Oh, Jerry, did you catch anything? 
Jerry. Naw, them fish were too wise for me. 
Ryder. [Laughing.] I'm afraid you're not a good fish- 
erman, Jerry. 



22 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

Jerry. [Jerry is c. Ryder on r. and Nell on l.] 
Well, sir, the other day I sat under a tree on the bank of 
that stream for about two hours — and didn't get a bite. 
Then all of a sudden I felt something tugging at the line 
and I hauls her up, and I'll be corns wabbled if there wasn't 
a fish on the hook about so long — [Stretches his arms far as 
possible — looks at Ryder and Nell to see if they believe 
him — sees that they do not] — well, he was about six inches 
anyway. I puts the line in again and first thing you know 
I gets another bite, and that thing kept up until I had about 
fifty fishes on my line; I was just thinkin' about goin' home 
— when I felt the line pull away from me, and would you 
believe it, I followed that line downstream for about sixteen 
yards — a-pullin' and a-pullin' ; thinks I to myself, there's a 
five-pounder on there, sure as you're born — just think what 
the folks are goin' to say when they see it — and then — dog- 
gone it — what do you think happened? 

Ryder and Nell. What? 

Jerry, I fell in the darn stream and woke up. 

[They are laughing at him, when David enters from house. 
He comes c, his manner very stem. Susan 
enters and remains on porch. Eliza- 
beth stands r. near house.] 

David. Nellie, come here. 

Nell. [Goes to David.] What is it, Uncle Dave? 

David. Do you remember the ring that I gave Elizabeth 
on her last birthday? 

Nell. Yes, sir. 

David. Well, it has been taken from her room and she 
says you were the only one that went in there today. 

Nell. Yes, she sent me there to sweep. 

David. Did you see anything of her ring? 

Nell. Why, no, Uncle Dave; she never kept it in her 
room ; she always wore it. I saw it on her hand this morn- 
ing. 

Elizabeth. You see, mother, how she lies. 

Susan. Of course she does. No matter what she says — 
I'll not harbor a thief in my house another day. 

Nell. A thief) Oh, no, Aunt Sue — you don't mean it 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 23 

Ryder. Oh, Mrs. Moore — I think there must be some 
mistake; you are not accusing Nellie? 

Susan. Yes, I am; she has fooled you, Mr. Ryder, just 
as she has the rest of us. The girl is no good. 

David. The question is, did Nellie steal the ring? 

Nell. Oh, no, Uncle Dave; how can you think it? 

Susan. Mr. Ryder, will you be good enough to search 
her pockets? 

Ryder. No, madam, I will not. 

Susan. Then I will. [Goes quickly to Nell, takes ring 
from her apron pocket, hands it to David, and returns r.] 
There's the proof — the girl's a thief! 

Nell. Oh, no, no, Uncle Dave; you don't believe it; I 
didn't take the ring; you don't believe me a thief — Uncle 
Dave — you don't believe it — you don't believe it — [Crying, 
kneels at his feet, holding his hand. 

David. [Looks undecidedly at others, then at Nell sob- 
bing. Raises his head convinced.] No, by God, I don't, 

curtain 



ACT THE SECOND 

Interior of Maple Farm Cottage. Christmas Day. Door 
r. flat. Large window, showing snow falling, and winter 
landscape. Door l. 2 e. with few steps leading up to it, 
as if it led upstairs. Table in l. u. corner containing 
Christmas tree, trimmed. On the table are numerous 
articles (Christmas presents). On the floor near the tree 
there is a tool-chest with a card on it. A snow shovel and a 
pair of boots, a book and a pair of roller skates. Each arti- 
cle has a card attached. A table with lamp, r. Couple of 
chairs. A hat tree inside door in flat. 

At rise of curtain, sleighbells heard, as if sleigh were 
drawing up at door. Talk outside, the bells cease. 

[Enter David followed by Dr. Templeton, wearing heavy 
coats, etc. Business of shaking snow off,] 

David. I tell you — this is Christmas weather all right, 
Gee wjllikensj 



24 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 



Dr. Templeton. It is indeed. If it keeps on at this 
rate, I'm afraid we sha'n't be able to return tonight. 

David. Well, in that case, we'll stay over until morn- 
ing. Now, I'll just explain to Susan, and then we'll start 
right off. I wonder where they all are. [Goes to door l. 
Calls.] Susan — Elizabeth — where is everybody? [Re- 
turns R. C.] 

[Enter Susan l.] 

Susan. Well, David Moore-; — if that ain't just like you — 
tracking snow all over the carpet. How do you do, Dr. 
Templeton — ain't this glorious Christmas weather? 

Dr. Templeton. Splendid, Mrs. Moore — I always think 
Christmas doesn't seem just right without a snow-storm. 
Mother Goose is plucking her geese, as the children say. 

David. Susan, the minister and I have got to go over to 
Rose Hill right away. 

Susan. Mercy on us — David — why, that's quite a drive. 

David. I know it is — we ain't goin' for pleasure. You 
see, old Joe Holmes is took worse, and they don't expect 
him to live many hours. Naturally he wants to see the 
minister, and as Joe has been a good friend of mine since I 
was knee-high to a grasshopper, I ain't goin' to let him die 
there all alone. 

Dr. Templeton. Besides, I don't know just how I could 
get there this evening if Mr. Moore had not offered to drive 
me over ; there's no train going that way until midnight. 

David. Yes, and poor old Joe is failing fast. So we 
won't waste no more time here. We may have to stay all 
night, Susan, so don't git worried if you don't see me till 
morning. 

Susan. Good gracious — it does seem too bad to have you 
go off like this. Some people do have the queerest ideas; 
now, what made old Joe Holmes select Christmas day to 
die on? 

David. Well, I reckon he would have postponed it if he 
could ; but that's one of the things we ain't consulted about. 
Come along, Minister, I reckon it'll be dark before we get 
there. [David and Templeton turn toward door,~\ 

[Enter Elizabeth l. 2 e.] 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 25 

Elizabeth. Are you going out, father? 

David. Yes; mother'll explain. The minister is going 
with me. 

Elizabeth. [Goes c] [To Templeton.] I'm sorry. 

Dr. Templeton. [Takes her hand.'] I'm more than 
sorry, Elizabeth. I had expected to remind you of a promise 
today — but I shall have to wait until tomorrow. You will 
be ready to answer me tomorrow? 

Elizabeth. Yes. 

Dr. Templeton. Then good-bye. [Starts off.] 

David. Good-bye. [Exit, door r. in flat.] 

Susan. Good-bye. Take care of yourselves. 

[David and Templeton exeunt. Susan stands at door. 

Elizabeth runs to window. Jingle of sleighbells 

outside, voices speaking to horses, etc. 

Bells die off in distance.] 

Susan. [As sleigh starts off.] Jerry, Jerry. Just look 
at that boy throwing snowballs after them — there, he has hit 
the minister in the neck with one. Jerry, you come in here, 
you young rascal. 

Elizabeth. [Shivering.] Oh, mother, close the door; 
you'll have the place like an iceberg. 

Susan. [Closes door.] It's too bad the minister had 
to go. 

Elizabeth. I'm glad of it. It has given me another 
day. 

Susan. You had better put John Ryder out of your 
mind, Elizabeth, and accept the minister. 

Elizabeth. I have until tomorrow. John Ryder comes 
today. 

[Enter Jerry, wrapped up in mufflers, etc.] 

Jerry. Gee — did ye see me soak the minister? I bet 
that'll hold him for a while. 

Susan. Ain't you got no more respect for a minister of 
the church? 

Jerry. Ah, shucks — ain't he goin' to be my brother-in- 
law? I was just initiatin' him into the family — that's all. 
If he marries Sis, he'll have to get used to gettin' it in the 
neck. 



26 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

Elizabeth. You had better wait until he is your brother- 
in-law ; you are entirely too sure of that fact. 

Jerry. Remember, Sis, a bird in the hand is worth two 
in the bush. Not that I mean to say the minister is a bird — 
far be it from me. 

Elizabeth. Indeed; then what do you mean? 

Jerry. I mean that you're wastin' valuable time wait- 
ing for John Ryder to come your way, 'cause if I knows 
anything about love- — and I think I do — John Ryder's heart 
is gone in another direction. 

Elizabeth. [Angrily.'] Oh, indeed; is that so; you im- 
pudent thing. Mother, will you allow that boy to talk to 
me in that way ? 

Susan. I declare; you two can never spend five minutes 
in the same room without fussing. Jerry, ain't you ashamed 
of yourself? 

Jerry. No'm. Sis ought to be; she's got such a mean 
disposition. 

[Jerry is l. c. Elizabeth r. c. Susan up stage c] 

Elizabeth. Mean disposition. You take that back. 

[Starts for Jerry.] 

Susan. [Comes between them.] Now, daughter; re- 
member you are a lady. 

Jerry. Yes — and please don't overlook the fact that I 
am a gentleman. 

Elizabeth. Gentleman ! You never will be if you live 
a hundred years. 

Jerry. Well, if it takes that long to be a gentleman, I 
ain't goin' to try. 

Susan. Now, Elizabeth, don't you see he's only trying to 
tease you. What's the use of getting yourself all flurried 
up for nothing, and company liable to drop in at any 
minute? Come back in the kitchen; I want you to test the 
blackberry wine to see if it is fit to serve. 

Elizabeth. [Follows Susan to door r. u.] Jerry, if 
anybody comes, you call us immediately, do you hear? 

[Susan and Elizabeth exit r. u.] 

L 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 27 

Jerry. Anybody means Mr. Ryder. Gee, ain't sisters 
queer things. [Takes a cigarette from his pocket. He 
is l. c] 

[Nell enters door in flat, hangs her cloak on hat tree inside 

door. Comes down behind Jerry. Jerry 

stands contemplating the cigarette.'] 

Nell. [Behind Jerry.] Boo! [Jerry jumps. Nell 
laughs.] Where's Aunt Sue? 

Jerry. In the kitchen. 

Nell. Did she know I was out? 

Jerry. You bet she did; where have you been? 

Nell. Down to Mr. Tom's cabin. [Sits on table R.] 
Jerry, I'm a liar. 

Jerry, What? 

Nell. Ah-ha ; I took some turkey to Mr. Tom and Mose, 
and I told them Aunt Sue sent it. 

Jerry. Gee — did they believe you? 

Nell. I think Mr. Tom did — but Mose looked at me 
kind of funny, I ain't sure but what I'm a thief, too. 

Jerry. Why ? 

Nell. I hooked the turkey. I didn't exactly hook it; I 
just took it out of the ice-box. You see, I didn't eat any at 
dinner, so I took as much as I thought would have been my 
p art — an d a little' bit more — and then some — do you think 
that's stealing? 

Jerry. No, you won't go to the bad place for that. And 
didn't you eat any dinner ? 

Nell. No. I didn't want any. You see, the turkey 
Aunt Sue killed for dinner was a friend of mine. 

Jerry. A friend of yours ? 

Nell. Yes, I had been feeding him every day for a 
long time — and we kinda got to like each other ; and when I 
saw Aunt Sue set him on the table, all brown and roasted — 
I said, Poor old Bob— and that settled me for dinner. 

Jerry. So you took him to Mr. Tom and Mose? 

Nell. Yes. Do you know — I believe they hadn't a 
thing in the house to eat. 

Jerry. Gee- whiz ; why didn't you tell me ; I'd have saved 
my part of Bob, too. [Is about to light cigarette.] 



28 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

Nell. What's that? 

Jerry. S-s-sh. [Glances around.'] It's a cigarmaroot. 

Nell. O — oh — better not let Aunt Sue see it. She'll 
cigarmaroot you. Lemme see you smoke. 

Jerry. [Lights cigarette, gives a few awkward puffs 
at it."] Want to try? 

Nell. [Eagerly.] Might make me sick. 

Jerry. No, it won't — didn't make me sick. 

Nell. How do you do it? 

Jerry. Just puff — like that. [Shows how. He holds 
cigarette for her.] 

Nell. [Takes a puff — then coughs.] Uh — ain't it 
nasty. 

[Enter Arabella door in flat.] 

Arabella. Jerry! [Jerry and Nell jump. Jerry 
tries to hide cigarette, puts it in his pants pocket — it slips 
down — he tries to find it.] 

Arabella. Where's your mother? 

Jerry. Gee — you ain't circulatin' today, are you — don't 
you know this is a holiday? 

Nell. All papers have a Christmas edition — I reckon 
this is an extra. [Nell and Jerry laugh.] 

Arabella. You two think you are awful smart, don't 
you? Well, you'll laugh on the other side of your face 
presently. [To Nell.] I'll cook your goose, miss. 

Nell. Thanks ; we had a turkey, and it's already cooked. 

Arabella. You impertinent piece; what I've got to say 
concerns you. 

Nell. I ain't surprised. If the good Lord sent one of 
His angels down here, you'd have some fault to find with it. 

Jerry. She wouldn't like the color of its wings. 

[Jerry remains l. Nell r. at table. Arabella c. up 

stage.] 

Arabella. Will you call your mother? 
Jerry. No, do it yourself. 

[Enter Susan, remains at door r. u.] 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 29 

Susan. Oh, Arabella; I thought I heard your voice. 
Won't you sit down and have some refreshments ? 

Arabella. No, thanks; I just stopped in to wish you 
a merry Christmas. 

Jerry. [Aside.'] And raise merry — well, it's no use 
saying it. 

Arabella, And while I'm here I feel it my duty to 
speak about another matter. You know, Susan, as well as I 
do, that I ain't one to spy on people and try to find out 
what they're doin' ; but things have accidentally come under 
my notice that I think you ought to know about. [Shakes 
her finger at Nell.] Do you know that that girl goes 
alone and unprotected to a lonely cabin on the other side of 
Mason's woods? 

Susan. No, I didn't. How do you know, Arabella? 

Arabella. I thought you didn't know about it. I saw 
her coming from there a little while ago ; and I says to my- 
self, I says, Susan IMoore has got to know about this. 

Susan. [To Nell.] What have you got to say, Miss? 

Nell. Got nothin' to say. That's Mr. Tom's cabin, and 
I do go there; what's the harm in it; there's no one there 
but a sick old man and a darkey. 

Arabella. Don't you believe her; do you want to tell 
me that a girl walks half a mile through the snow to see 
an old man and a darkey. I reckon I know better than that. 
I was once a girl myself. 

Nell. No one would ever believe it. 

Arabella. You take my word for it, Susan; she's had a 
rendez-vous there this morning. 

Susan. I'll attend to her, Arabella. I wouldn't be a bit 
surprised if what you say is true. Come back in the kitchen 
and have a glass of homemade blackberry before you go. 

Araeella. Well, I don't care if I do. [Goes to door 
R. u.] But if that boy was mine I'd never let him associate 
with her. [Susan and Arabella exeunt r. u.] 

Jerry. [Goes to r. u.] Say, if you was a man I'd take 
you out and wash your face in the snow. I'm going to soak 
you wid a snowball anyhow, when you go — just for luck. 
[Comes down to Nell, who is leaning downcast against 
table.] Say, Nell, what's a ren-dez-vous? 



SO THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

Nell. Search me. She said I had one this morning. 
It's funny I don't know what it is. 

Jerry. Say, what did you get for Christmas? 

Nell. Nothin'. 

Jerry. Well, Christmas ain't over yet. What would yoif 
like to have? 

Nell. Oh, what's the use of liking. 

Jerry. I heard you ask Sis for a piece of blue ribbon 
the other day; what did you want it for? 

Nell. I wanted it to wear, of course. I found a dress 
in the attic that Lizzie threw away ; I heard her tell Aunt 
Sue she wouldn't wear it any more; so I took it and fixed 
it up ; and I wanted the ribbon for that. 

Jerry. And she wouldn't give it to you? 

Nell. She wouldn't even lend it to me. I only wanted 
it to wear this evening. 

Jerry. What do you want it this evening for? 

Nell. Oh, nothing particular. 

Jerry. John Ryder comin' over? 

Nell. [Sharply.] I'd like to know what that has got 
to do with it? 

Jerry. Oh, nothin' particular. [Jerry takes from his 
pocket a bunch of blue ribbon, Gives it to Nell.] There's 
your ribbon. 

Nell. Oh, Jerry, where did you get it? 

Jerry. Bought it. Dad gave me a whole dollar yes- 
terday, and that's the first thing I bought. 

Nell. And you give it to me? 

Jerry. Of course. 

Nell. [Hugs him impulsively.'] Oh, Jerry, I'm so glad. 

Jerry. Wait a minute; maybe I got another piece. 

Nell. And it's all my own, ain't it; just think, I won't 
have to give it back to anybody ; I can keep it, can't I ? 

Jerry. Sure it's yours ; what are you talkin' about ? 

Nell. Because I have so few things that really belong 
to me. Only my mother's dress, this little locket with her 
picture in it. [Slips locket on small chain from under her 
apron collar.'] And now this bunch of ribbon. That's all I 
got in the world, Jerry; and you don't know how much they 
mean to me. 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 31 

Jerry. Lemme see the picture; why do you always keep 
it hidden? 

Nell. [Holds locket so that Jerry might see the picture 
in it.] Because nobody loves her but me. 

Jerry. [Looking at the locket. ,] Gee, she looks a heap 
like you. And that's the dress you've got up in the attic, 
ain't it? [Pointing to 'picture.] 

Nell. Yes, sometimes I put it on, put my hair up like 
that, and then I look in the glass and make believe it's my 
mother looking back at me. 

Jerry. Say, you're a funny kid. Better not let Ma 
catch you at that. She'll take them away from you. 

Nell. She can't; they're mine; my mother left them to 
me when she died; I'll never give them up to anybody. 
[Replaces locket around her neck.] Jerry, I wish I had 
something to give you. 

Jerry. Don't worry about that. Come here, let me 
show you what I got. [Indicates each article as he speaks 
of them.] There's a tool-chest from Ma. [Reads card.] 
"To my darling boy, Merry Christmas." That means her 
darling boy will have to do all the carpenter work about 
the house for the next year. Here's a snow shovel and a 
pair of boots from Pa. [Reads card.] "Merry Christmas 
to Jerry." Yes, Merry Christmas, shoveling snow from 
now until April. Here's a book from Sis: "A girl's best 
friend is her sweetheart," by Laura Jean Libbey. 

Nell. That's a funny book for you to read. 

Jerry. She didn't expect me to read it. She wanted it 
herself and she knew I'd give it back to her. And here's 
roller skates from the minister. Roller skates in the coun- 
try and in the winter time. I wanted ice skates; I can't 
skate on these things. 

Nell. Put them on and try. I'll hold your hand. 

Jerry. Wait a minute. [Sits on floor.] Here goes. 
Gee, I hope tliss Arabella will keep Ma in the kitchen a 
little longer. 

Nell. [Helping Jerry fasten the skates.] Oh, she 
ain't half through yet. When she starts she never stops 
until she has talked about everybody she knows. Let me 
help you with this one. 

Jerry. They're on. Hold my hand. 



32 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

[Business of skating about the room. Nell holds Jerry's 

hand until they reach r. u. e. Arabella enters, still 

chatting to Susan, who is following her. Jerry 

bumps into Arabella, and they both tumble. 

Nell runs l.] 

Susan. Jerry — what do you mean? 

Jerry. [Rising.] Well; why didn't she look where she 
was going? 

Arabella. [Rising.] You ill-mannered boy; I never 
had such a shock in my life. Susan, I don't like to talk to 
a woman about her only son, but that boy is awful. 

Susan. You can't blame my boy, Arabella; it's the influ- 
ence of that worthless girl. [To Nell.] Leave the room, 
Miss; I'll attend to you later. [Nell exit l. 2 e.] Jerry, 
take those skates back in the kitchen. [Jerry goes to 
r. u. e.] Before you go, tell Miss Arabella you're sorry. 

Jerry. I'll be hanged if I do. I'd like to get another 
chance at her — that's all. Look out. 

[Jerry makes a sudden turn as if slipping. Arabella gets 
behind Susan. Jerry exit r. u.] 

Susan. I never saw Jerry carry on so before. 

[Enter Elizabeth r. u.] 

Arabella. Susan Moore, you take my advice and keep 
your eye on that girl; you know what her mother was; and 
she's just like her; I declare I never saw such a spittin' 
image of Eleanor Moore in my life. Well, good-bye, I must 
be going. [Arabella makes a start for door in flat, turns 
back.] Oh, I almost forgot something. Is it true that the 
minister and John Ryder come here almost every day? 

Elizabeth. The minister comes to see us as he does 
everyone else who belongs to his church; and Mr. Ryder 
owns this farm, it is part of The Maples estate; I suppose 
he can come here as often as he likes. 

Arabella. Now, Elizabeth, there's no use gettin' ruffled 
at a civil question. You know I always took an interest in 
you ; and folks down in the village are kind of mystified ; 
they'd like to know who it is going to be, the minister or 
Mr. Ryder. 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH SB 

Elizabeth. Well, they won't be any the wiser after 
they've seen you. 

Arabella. Oh, I see; it ain't quite settled yet. Well, 
no harm meant. I only wanted to be the first to offer Con- 
grats; that's all. Good-bye, Susan; I've enjoyed myself 
so much. [Exit c] 

Elizabeth. The old busybody. 

Susan. Well, you see, folks are talkin'. If John Ryder 
doesn't speak today, you had better accept the minister to- 
morrow. 

Elizabeth. If you would keep Nell out of his way 
perhaps he would get a chance to speak. Every time he 
comes here that girl manages to attract his attention. 

Susan. Oh, you needn't worry about her. I've made it 
my business to tell him her mother's history, in case he 
hadn't heard it. 

Elizabeth. What did he say? 

Susan. Didn't say anything, but he thought a heap. He 
just looked at me kind of wise and smiled. Why, you don't 
think a man in John Ryder's position is going to consider a 
girl like Nell, do you? 

Elizabeth. I don't know. You never can tell what a 
man is going to do — where a girl is concerned. 

[Enter John Ryder, c. Carries a few packages. Puts his 
hat on rack inside door.] 

Ryder. [Speaks as he opens door.] May I come in? 

Susan. Oh, it's Mr. Ryder. 

Ryder. [Puts packages on table, shakes hands with 
Susan.] I wish you a merry Christmas, Mrs. Moore, al- 
though the day is almost over. [Shakes hands with Eliza- 
beth.] And to you, Miss Elizabeth, if you will accept my 
good wishes at this late hour. 

Elizabeth. We are always glad to have you, Mr. Ryder. 
Mother was wondering if you'd drop in today. 

Ryder. I really intended coming earlier, but I went 
down into the village to take some toys to my housekeeper's 
grandchildren, and a few other little friends I have down 
there, and I could hardly get away from them. 

Susan. You are fond of children? 



34 THE BUST OF THE EARTH 

Ryder. Yes, God bless 'em ; I never met a child yet that 
I couldn't love. Where is Mr. Moore? 

Elizabeth. Father and Dr. Templeton have gone some 
distance to see a friend who is dying. They probably won't 
return tonight. 

Ryder. Oh, I'm sorry. I've brought him a meerschaum 
pipe as a little Christmas remembrance; I know he smokes. 

[Gives pipe in case to Susan.] 

Susan. [Opens case.'] Oh, Mr. Ryder, how thoughtful 
you are. Ain't it beautiful, Elizabeth? 

Elizabeth. Lovely; father will be awfully pleased. 

Ryder. And for Mrs. Moore I've brought a real Cash- 
mere shawl; I picked it up in Egypt while I was abroad 
last year, so I believe it is the real article and not an imita- 
tion. [Gives Susan box containing folded shawl.] 

Susan. Oh, what a beautiful pattern; and to think it 
came all the way from Egypt. 

Elizabeth. Mother will be so proud she won't know her 
old friends. 

Ryder. And for Miss Elizabeth there is an odd little 
Russian purse. [Gives it to her.] I hope it will always 
be well filled. 

Elizabeth. [Admiring purse.] Oh, how beautiful. 
Did this come from abroad, too? 

Ryder. Yes, St. Petersburg. 

Susan. Really, Mr. Ryder, you've been too kind. 

Elizabeth. Yes, we don't know how to thank you. 

Ryder. Then please don't try. Oh, by the way, where? 
is Jerry? I'd like to see him. 

Susan. I sent him to the kitchen a few minutes ago; 
I'll go tell him. [Exit r. u.] 

Ryder. [Glancing around.] Where is your cousin, Miss 
Elizabeth? 

Elizabeth. My cousin? 

Ryder. Yes — Nellie. 

Elizabeth. Oh, we don't call her cousin, Mr. Ryder. I 
thought you knew that. 

Ryder. She is your father's sister's child, is she not? 

Elizabeth. Yes, unfortunately. I don't care to go into 
the story, but our family have suffered a great deal at her 






THE DUST OF THE EARTH 35 

mother's hands, and we can't bring ourselves to recognize 
this girl as a cousin; it would be expecting too much. 

Susan. [Enters r. u.] I think Jerry must have gone 
down to the barn ; he'll be here in a minute. 

Ryder. Oh, in that case, I'll go find him. I'll return 
shortly. [Exit c] 

Susan. Well, did he speak? 

Elizabeth. Yes, of her; he wants to see her. 

Susan. Well, he sha'n't. She's up in the attic now, and 
111 see that she stays there. 

[Nell enters l. 2 e. — remains on steps; she has changed her 

gingham dress for a simple white dress, and 

wears the blue ribbons.] 

Elizabeth. Oh, will you? Then look at that. [Points 
to Nell.] And she's wearing my dress. [Crosses and 
takes fold of dress in her hand.] Mother, just look at that ; 
the impudence of her, wearing my clothes. 

Nell. It's an old dress that you threw away; you said 
you wouldn't wear it again, Lizzie. 

Elizabeth. I said nothing of the sort; and how many 
times have I told you not to call me Lizzie; my name is 
Elizabeth. 

Nell. I always called you that when we were children. 

Elizabeth. We are not children now. I am a lady, 
no matter what you are. 

Susan. You march right upstairs and take that dress 
off; you hear me speaking? How dare you take my child's 
clothes ? 

Elizabeth. And that's my ribbon, too. 

Nell. It is not. Jerry gave it to me. You can have 
your old dress, I might have known you'd be too mean to 
let me keep it. But you sha'n't have the ribbon ; that's my 
own, and I'd like to see you try to take it. You won't give 
me anything nice to wear. 

Susan. Indeed, and why should I? You ought to be 
thankful to have a roof over your head. Go back and put 
on your gingham dress. 

Nell. I won't; I'm tired of wearing that old rag. 1 
know what I'll do, I'll put on the dress my mother gcvQ me; 
that's mine and yov can't take it away from me. 



86 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 



Elizabeth. Yes, do; you'll be a picture in that old- 
fashioned thing ; but you won't wear my clothes, understand 
that. 

Susan. [Draws Elizabeth to r. of stage.'] That will 
do, Elizabeth. [To Nell.] You go upstairs, Miss, and 
don't you show your face until I send for you. 

Nell. Aunt Sue, please let me stay. 

Susan. Don't talk back to me. Do as I tell you. 

[Nell turns slowly toward l. 2 e., is on the step, when 
Ryder comes quickly through c. door.] 

Ryder. I found him. [Sees Nell.] Oh, wait a min- 
ute, Nellie, don't go. [Crosses and takes her hand.] 

Susan. [A t r. u. e. with Elizabeth.] The little vixen ; 
she has got ahead of us again. [Exit r. u. with Eliza- 
beth.] 

Ryder. What were you running away for? 

Nell. Well, I wasn't exactly running — maybe you no- 
ticed it. 

Ryder. [Drawing her down on stage to c] How sweet 
you look in blue and white; why don't you wear it all the 
time ? 

Nell. Ask Aunt Sue. I was just going to take it off. 

Ryder. Oh, but you must n't. I want you to wear it 
the rest of the evening — to please me — won't you? 

Nell. I'd like to — but Aunt Sue won't let me. 

Ryder. Oh, perhaps if I'd speak to her. [Turns toward 
R. u.] 

Nell. [Catches his coat.] Oh, no, don't you do it; 
I'd only catch the dickens after you'd go. 

Ryder. [Takes both her hands.] Well, what did Santa 
Claus bring ™n ? 

Nell. 

Did you receive no present today? 
Oh, yes; Jerry gave me this blue ribbon. Ain't 



Santa Claus — I never knew him. 



Ryder. 

Nell. 
it pretty? 

Ryder. 
thing. 

Nell. 

Ryder. 

Nell. 



It is indeed. Well, I've brought you some- 

Oh, have } r ou — what is it? 

See if you can guess. 
A book? 



THE BUST OF THE EARTH 37 

Ryder. No, the library at The Maples is full of good 
books, and you are welcome to them all. [Takes small box 
from his pocket, opens it.] Here it is — a little gold pin to 
wear on the ribbon at your throat. 

Nell. [Looks at it.] Oh, my, it's pretty. [Draws her 
hand away.] But I can't take that. 

Ryder. Why not? 

Nell. 'Cause it's a pin — and pins cut friendship. 

Ryder. [Laughs.] Now, Nell, you don't believe that 
humbug, do you? 

Nell. I don't know; lots of people do; and — I ain't 
going to take any chances losing you. 

Ryder. My dear little girl, you couldn't lose me if you 
tried ever so hard. See, you needn't take it really; I'll pin 
it here at your throat, may I? 

Nell. Yes; that won't be taking it, will it? 

[Ryder pins the brooch at her throat.] 

Ryder. No, you superstitious little goose. There, 
it's on. 

Nell. That makes four. 

Ryder. Four what? 

Nell. Four things that really belong to me. My 
mother's dress, her locket, the ribbon that Jerry gave me — 
and now this. Do you want me to thank you for it? 

Ryder. No — not in words — I'm planning to take my 
payment in another way. Nell, I know you're not happy 
here; you haven't complained, but I have eyes to see, and 
it makes me miserable to think of your being subject to 
the insults of these people. Do you know that lots of girls 
are married at your age ? 

Nell. [Shyly.] Are they? 

Ryder. Would you like to live at The Maples ? 

Nell. Oh, wouldn't I? 

Ryder. Nell, have you ever been in love? 

Nell. Ah-hah — 

Ryder. What ! 

Nell. Oh, I didn't mean to say that — it slipped. 

Ryder. Who is he — do I know him — why haven't you 
told me this before? 

Nell. You never asked me. 



38 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 



Ryder. How long has this been going on? 
Nell. Oh, for some time. 
Ryder. Have you told your aunt? 
Nell. Oh, no — you must n't tell her. 
Ryder. Then you must tell me, Nell. I'm sorry to hear 
this. I thought I knew all your friends and acquaintances. 
Tell me, do I know this man? 

Nell. I think so. But I won't tell you who it is. 
Ryder. I'm sorry, Nell. I came here today with a 
settled purpose in my mind; can you guess what it was? 
Nell. No. 

To get your uncle's permission to ask you to 
And now you tell me you care for someone else. 
I didn't. 
What? 
You asked me if I was in love, and I said yes. 

But with whom? 
You. 
[Laughing, takes her in his arm*.] 






Ryder. 
marry me 

Nell. 

Ryder. 

Nell. 

Ryder. 

Nell. 

Ryder. 
witch. 



You little 



[Enter Susan, r. u.] 



Susan. Nellie ! 

Nell. Oh, Lord. [Runs off l. 2 e.] 

Susan. [Comes down r.] Mr. Ryder, may I ask what 
you mean by such carryings-on under my roof? 

Ryder. If you will explain what you mean by carryings- 
on, Mrs. Moore, I may be able to enlighten you. 

Susan. You know very well what I mean. Your dis- 
graceful behavior with that girl. You can't make me be- 
lieve that a gentleman in your position has any serious in- 
tention with regard to a nameless creature like her. You 
haven't forgotten what I told you of her mother, have you? 

Ryder. No, after having it dinned into my ears so per- 
sistently it would be impossible to forget. 

Susan. Well — everybody in the neighborhood knows it 
as well as you. 

Ryder. Yes, I fancy you made it your business they 
should. 

Susan. I am willing to believe that the girl was brazen 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 39 

enough to encourage you in this foolishness, and of course 
you were only amusing yourself. 

Ryder. [Goes up, takes hat from hatrack.'] You may 
believe what you please, Mrs. Moore. But I want you to 
understand perfectly that I have paid not the slightest 
regard to the story you took the trouble to tell me; that I 
consider Nellie the dearest girl I know. I will call on Mr. 
Moore tomorrow and offer him an explanation of my con- 
duct, as I consider him the proper person to receive it. In 
the meantime, I bid you good-evening. [Exit c. d.] 

Susan. He will speak to David tomorrow. Can it be 
that he is serious. [Looks toward l. 2 e.] Oh, that un- 
grateful girl; why did I ever consent to let her live under 
my roof. She has been the cause of contention and trouble 
in my house since she was an infant, and now she has 
crowned it all by ruining my daughter's happiness. 

[Enter Elizabeth r. u.] 

Elizabeth. Mother, I saw Mr. Ryder from the kitchen 
window ; why is he going so soon ? 

Susan. Elizabeth, you need never think of John Ryder 
again. That girl has spoiled everything. 

Elizabeth. What do you mean? 

Susan. I mean that she is following in her mother's 
footsteps; when I entered this room I found her in John 
Ryder's arms. 

Elizabeth. Mother ! 

Susan. Yes, you may well be shocked ; but what can you 
expect of her? 

Elizabeth. He don't care for her — he can't. 

Susan. I told him I was willing to believe he was not 
in earnest — 

Elizabeth. Yes — and what did he say? 

Susan. He said I might believe anything I pleased; 
what he had to say, he would say to your father. 

Elizabeth. To father. Then he must intend to marry 
her. 

Susan. I don't believe it. 

Elizabeth. Whether you believe it or not, he will never 
be anything to me. Oh, how I hate her — how I hate her — 



40 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

[Sobs on Susan's shoulder, r. c] 

Susan. There — there — Elizabeth, don't cry. Our plans 
have gone wrong, but it's her fault, and she'll suffer for it. 

[Enter Nell l. 2 e.; she is dressed in her mother's old- 
fashioned blue merino gown, with the blue ribbon 
in her hair. She comes softly down 
the steps, stands l. c] 

Nell. What's the matter, Elizabeth? 

Elizabeth. Don't talk to me, you disgraceful girl; I 
hate you — do you hear, I hate you. 

Nell. [Quietly,'] Yes, I knew that before. There's 
no use repeating it. 

Susan. What do you mean by dressing yourself up in 
that old thing? 

Nell. Well, you said I couldn't have the other one. 
This was my mother's, and I thought you wouldn't mind if I 
put it on. 

Elizabeth. And what do you think you look like in it? 

Susan. I'll tell you what she looks like. She is the 
very picture of Eleanor Moore, her mother — the woman 
that disgraced our name and made us the laughing stock 
of the whole village. What do you mean by your disgrace- 
ful conduct with John Ryder? 

Nell. Disgraceful? 

Elizabeth. Yes — you didn't think he was serious, did 
you? He's amusing himself with you — just as men do the 
world over with girls of your class. 

Nell. It isn't true, Elizabeth. 

Susan. It is true. You don't think he'd marry you; 
why, what name would you be married by — you haven't any, 
you know. Who was your father? You don't know — 
neither does any one else. John Ryder knows your story — 
do you think he is going to give the name of Ryder, one of 
the proudest in the state, to a nameless creature like you — 
the very dust of the earth? 

Nell. [Has been trying to keep back the tears.~\ It 
isn't true, none of it is true; you only say it because you 
hate me. I won't believe what you say of my mother; I 
don't care what she was — or what she did — she was my 






THE DUST OF THE EARTH 41 

mother and I love her. If I look like her I'm glad of it. 
You wouldn't dare do this if Uncle Dave were at home; 
but you'll never get the chance again. [Goes to c, up stage.] 
I've taken all I'm going to take from you, Aunt Sue; and 
from you too, Elizabeth. You've insulted me and the 
memory of my mother for the last time. I'd die before I'd 
spend another night beneath this roof. [Takes cloak from 
hatrack and throws it around her shoulders.] 

Susan. Where are you going? 

Nell. I don't know, and I don't care. 

[Crying. Exit c, passes window going l.] 

[The snow is seen falling as the door opens, and through 

the window.] 

[Susan and Elizabeth hold their positions until curtain.] 

CURTAIN 



ACT THE THIRD 

Wandering Tom's Cabin. Christmas night. Door and 
window in flat. Small shelf with few plain dishes l. u. 
A cot with cover up stage r. Door l. A lamp (lighted) 
on table r. c. A small stove with teakettle. Small wood 
box on shelf containing a wedding ring and lock of hair 
wrapped in yellow paper. 

At rise of curtain Tom is seated at table (left side of 
table). There are a few small dishes on table, which Mose 
is in the act of putting away on the shelf, one at a time, 
talking as he goes back and forth. 

Tom. That was a very fine piece of turkey, Mose. 

Mose. Yassir, dat's a fack, it was; I cert'ny did enjoy 
it scrumptious mahself. 

Tom. I'm afraid you ate very little of it. 

Mose. Why, Marse Tom, what you talkin' 'bout — I done 
eat de whole wish-bone. And to think little Missy came 
all de way through the snow to bring us our Christmas 
dinner. 

Tom. It was indeed thoughtful of her. It surprises me, 
however, that her aunt should think of us. 



42 THE BUST OF THE EARTH 

Mose. Yassah — it done surprise me some, too — but I got 
my suspicions about dat. I don't believe nobody thought 
about us but little Missy Nell herself. She powerful fond 
of you, Marse Tom. 

Tom. You and she are my only friends, Mose. I hope 
to reward you both when fortune smiles on me again. 

Mose. Lor', Marse Tom, fortune's got a more dan smile 
— she's got to laugh herself most to death to make up for 
what you done suffered. 

Tom. Mose, why did you attach yourself to so unfor- 
tunate a being as I ? 

Mose. 'Cause de minute I seed you, Marse Tom, I 
knowed you was a genlum, and I had been lookin' for a 
genlum a long time. I tell you dey am gettin' mighty 
scarce. 

Tom. Your last master was a gentleman, Mose. 

Mose. Deed he war, sah; he war Master Hunter Boyd 
of Virginia ; ; he done left me five hundred dollars in his will. 

Tom. Indeed. What became of it ? 

Mose. Well, you see, I got a son up north — one of dem 
no-account Northern niggers — and as soon as he heard about 
dat five hundred dollars he gets a longin' and achin' to see 
his poor old father ; and he didn't gib me no rest till I packs" 
up and goes north. Well, sah, dat five hundred dollars last 
just about six months — and den, somehow, dey didn't seem 
so anxious for my company; thought I was lookin' bad — de 
northern climate didn't seem to sagastiate wid my system — 
so I done took de hint and started back to Virginia. 

Tom. But this is not Virginia. 

Mose. No, sah, I knows it ain't, but I done blowed so 
much about that 'ristocratic son o' mine up north, dat I was 
'shamed to go back to de old place, so I stops off here, and 
almost de first person I meets was you, Marse Tom, roamin' 
around like you war lost. I says to myself, Mose, dar's a 
genlum what needs a servant; and you is a servant what 
needs a genlum — so I done engaged you right off. 

Tom. I needed you a thousandfold more than you needed 
me, Mose. You have been my faithful friend and com- 
panion. God knows what I should have done without you. 
Many a one would pay you well for your services, while I 
can give you nothing. 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 43 

Mose. I don't want no pay, Marse Tom — except de 
priv'lege of 'sociatin' wid a genlum; dat's what I been used 
to all mah life — and no amount of money could pay me to 
serve a master that wasn't a genlum. I'm puffickly satisfied 
with mah present situation. By the way, Marse Tom, what 
would you like to have for breakfast in de mornin' ? 

Tom. I'm afraid there's not much choice, Mose. What 
have you there ? 

Mose. [Looks into jars on shelf.] Well, dar's some 
oatmeal — and yer's a little coffee left. 

Tom. You got that in the village? 

Mose. Yas, sah, I done chopped quarter load of wood 
for dat. Den yer's some cornmeal — and — oh, wait a minute 
■ — yer's one egg. I reckon it looks like we're goin' to have a 
pretty fine breakfast. 

Tom. I don't know how we are going to get through 
the winter, Mose. Oh, if I could only do something to help. 

Mose. Now, Marse Tom — don't you go and forget dat 
you's a genlum. I'm gwine to attend to de providin' of dis 
fam'ly. I got a kind of superstitious feelin' in mah bones 
dat we am goin' to have chicken for dinner tomorrow. 

Tom. Mose, you must not appropriate anyone's chickens 
— I strictly forbid that. 

Mose. Who goin' to do any 'propriatin', Marse Tom. 
If a poor, measly, God-forsaken, homesick chicken comes up 
to me and say, "Please, Mr. Mose, I ain't got no home, 
won't you please take me" — do you call it 'propriatin' if I 
tucks dat poor little wanderer under my coat and takes it 
home to a nice hot fire? No, sah, dat ain't 'propriatin' — 
dat— dat's charity. [Goes to window.] Lordy, how it 
am snowin'. 

Tom. And this is Christmas night. Have you seen any 
Christmas trees today, Mose? 

Mose. Yessah — saw a stingy little one down in de vil- 
lage — not de kind we used to have in old Marse Boyd's 
home down in Virginny. I 'members when I was jest a 
little pickaninny, on Christmas mornin' we all used to go up 
to de big house and get our present — and dar was de big 
tree, all trimmed wid cakes and candies — and dem little 
paper angels what hangs by a wire from de branches. And 
den der was music and dancin' and lots of company comin' 



44 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

and goin' all day long. I tell you dem was great days — ■ 
dem was great days. 

Tom. Yes, I have a dim recollection of times like those; 
but I can't place them. Oh, if I could only recall one thing 
in that forgotten past, I feel that all would return to me. 

Mose. I wish I done knowed you then, Marse Tom; 
may be I could help you remember. 

Tom. The little girl, Nellie, helps me somehow. It is 
strange, but when I look at her, some thought seems striv- 
ing to frame itself in my poor head — some fancy that she 
was connected with the past. Oh, but that is impossible — ■ 
she is little more than a child. 

Mose. May be she done look like somebody you knowed 
then. 

Tom. That may be the explanation. It will come to me 
some day — for I am getting stronger, Mose; I can think 
more connectedly, and I speak more rationally than I did 
when you first knew me, don't you think so? 

Mose. Yes, indeedy, Marse Tom; dat's a fack, you does. 
Why, I used to be able to steal a half dozen chicken a week 
and you neber knowed de dif'frunce. Now, bress de Lord, 
I can't bring one home widout you wants to know its whole 
puhsonal history. 

Tom. Mose, if I could only recall what the contents of 
that litle box mean, the mystery would be solved, and 
Wandering Tom would come into his own again. [Indicates 
the small box on shelf. ] 

Mose. [Looking toward the box.'] Yassah — dat cer- 
tain'y am most curious. 

Tom. Bring it here and let me look at them again. I 
am feeling wonderfully hopeful tonight. Who knows but 
what I am on the brink of a discovery. 

Mose. [Takes box and places it on table near Tom. He 
remains back of table.'] How come you to hold on to that 
little box all these years, Marse Tom? 

Tom. When 1 began this strange existence of mine, this 
little box and a large sum of money were in my possession. 
I don't know how I came by them. The sum of money is 
long ago spent, but the little box I will never part with until 
it helps me to unearth the past. 

Mose. I hope it does, Marse, but I don't see how dem 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH. U 

triflin' little things am goin' to do much. Nothin' but a 
ring and a lock of hair — dat's all. 

Tom. [Takes ring out of box.] See, a plain gold ring — ■ 
the words "From Tom to Eleanor" engraved on the inner 
side; and beneath them the word "Mizpah." 

Mose. Dat done caused all de trouble — dat Mizpah — I 
never did believe in dem heathen names. 

Tom. And the lock of hair — as soft and silky as a child's; 
see, the paper wrapping is yellow with age. [Reads from 
paper wrapping.] "From Eleanor to Tom." [Puts articles 
in box on table.] Eleanor! Who was Eleanor? Oh, God, if 
you would only let me remember. [Sobs and buries his 
head in his hands.] 

[Mose stands in silent sympathy.] 

Nell. [Outside the window.] Mr. Tom — Mr. Tom — • 
open the door. 

[Tom raises his head. Mose listens.] 

Mose. What's dat — a ghost — did you hear something 
Marse Tom? 

Tom. Yes — someone called me. 

Nell. Mr. Tom — Mose — open the door. 

Mose. In de name of de great Jehovah — if it ain't Missy 
Nell. [Opens door.] Bress dat child — out in all dis 
weather. 

Nell. [Enters, runs and kneels at Tom's chair.] Oh, 
Mr. Tom — let me stay here — I have nowhere else to go. 

Tom. Why, my little friend — on a night like this you are 
away from home? 

Nell. I have no home — I have no mother — no father — 
no friends in all the world but you two; you must let me 
stay with you tonight; tomorrow I will go away. 

Tom. Go away? 

Nell. Yes — anywhere to get away from it all; I never 
want to look anyone I know in the face again. 

Mose. Look yer, Missy, dey didn't drive you out on a 
night like dis, did they? 

Nell. They might as well have done it. They taunted 
me and insulted me until I could no longer stand it. I am 



46 'THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

going to leave this place. The world is big and I can find 
a place in it if I try. 

Tom. I don't know what your trouble is, little friend, 
but Mose and I are proud and happy to have you here. It's 
a poor shelter, but you are welcomed to it. 

Mose. And don't you worry — Missy; 'case I'm going to 
make you powerful comfortable. And you mus n't think of 
leavin' tomorrow — 'cause dere's really no necessity; we'se 
got a whole lot — in fack we's got a super'bundance of per- 
visions on hand — and tomorrow we'se going to have chicken 
stew — wid real chicken — dat is if de chicken don't object. 

Nell. Yes, I must go away tomorrow. I'm going down 
to the village and find work — then when I can I'm going 
still farther. I want to get as far away as possible. 

Tom. Does your uncle know of this? 

Nell. No, he wasn't at home. Uncle Dave has been 
good to me; but nothing will ever make me go back after 
what they said tonight. They insulted the memory of my 
mother. 

Tom. Your mother is dead, Nellie? 

Nell. Yes, she died when I was an infant; oh, if she 
had only lived; if she had only lived. [Weeps on Tom's 
shoulder.'] 

Mose. Now, look yer, Missy Nell — if yo' all is goin' 
to be mah guest — I'se goin' to lay down some rules and regu- 
lations — and de first and de last one is — der ain't goin' to 
be no weepin'. Dis life am too short for tears, and when 
you looks at it square in de face — what good do they do? 
Only spoil yo' pretty eyes, and make poor old Mose mis'able. 
Now, don't you' cry no more, honey — don't yo' do it — dat's 
all. [Mose has been gradually drifting into tears, and ends 
up by crying.] 

Nell. [Rising and going to Mose.] Oh, Mose, I'm 
sorry; I won't cry any more. I ought to be glad to have 
you and Mr. Tom to come to, without making you unhappy, 
too. Look. [Brushes tears from her eyes.] They're all 
gone. 

Mose. [Brushes his tears away.] So am mine, honey. 

Tom. Now, Mose, Miss Nellie must be mentally and 
physically tired. Get my room in order, so that she may 
rest there tonight. 



THE BUST OF THE EARTH 47 

Nell. Oh, Mr. Tom, don't give up your room to me; I 
can rest here in this chair. 

Tom. No, my child, you must have a good night's rest. 
As for me — well, I often spend half the night in this chair, 
thinking and trying to recall the past. I shall do so to- 
night. 

Mose. Now, Marse Tom — I ain't goin' to have you 
sitting up half de night. You is going to go sound asleep on 
dat cot in de corner — and you ain't goin' to be long about it 
neither. 

Tom. But where will you sleep, Mose? 

Mose. Dat's all right 'bout me. Nigger can sleep on a 
rail fence if he wants to; and a genlum can't. Now, der's 
plenty of room for everybody — and I'm goin' this minute 
to fix up de other room for Missy Nell. [Exit l.] 

Tom. Come here, my child. [Nell kneels beside Tom's 
chair.'] It pains me to see you unhappy. I will miss you 
greatly if you go away, for your friendship has meant more 
to me than you will ever know. Have you no other friend 
to advise you in this matter? 

Nell. There's Mr. Ryder; but I never want to see him 
again after what they've told him. 

Tom. He is the young man I have seen you with occa- 
sionally? 

Nell. Yes, sir, he lives at The Maples. 

Tom. The Maples? 

Nell. Yes; don't you remember? I saw you there one 
day last fall — you were looking through the window, and 
I asked you what you were doing; don't you remember? 

Tom. I remember. 

Nell. What were you looking for that day, Mr. Tom? 

Tom. I don't know, Nellie; the place has an attraction 
for me ; I believe I know every nook and corner of it. Even 
the name sounds sweetly familiar to my ear — The Maples. 

Nell. Mr. Ryder lives there all alone except for the 
servants. He inherited the place years ago from a distant 
relation of his who was killed. 

Tom. Killed? 

Nell. Yes, he met with an accident while mountain- 
climbing in Switzerland ; his name was Thomas Osbourne. 

Tom. Thomas Osbourne ! 



48 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

Mose. [At door l.] Now, Missy, your room is ready. 
And I'm going to light this candle for you; when you are 
through with it, jest please distinguish it. [Has lighted 
candle and given to Nell.] 

[Tom sits in deep thought — repeating to himself "Thomas 

Osbourne."] 

Nell. [Throws off her cloak, takes candle, approaches 
Tom.] I'll say good-night, Mr. Tom. 

Tom. [Turns slowly toward Nell.] Good-night, my 
child. [Sees Nell in her mother's gown, looks fixedly at 
her, then rises slowly, his eyes on Nell; goes to her, and 
•whispers."] "Eleanor." 

Nell. [Quietly.] Yes — that was my mother's name. 

[Mose goes softly and takes candle from Nell's light hand 
— goes up stage quietly so as not to disturb the scene.] 

Tom. Your mother? 

Nell. Yes, See, here is her picture. [Gives Tom 
locket.] 

Tom. [Looking closely at picture.] Eleanor, Eleanor. 
How came you by this, my child ? 

Nell. My mother left it to me when she died? 

Tom. [Softly.] She is dead? 

Nell. Yes. 

Tom. What was your father's name? 

Nell. I never knew my father. They say he deserted 
my mother and left her to die in poverty and shame. 

Tom. It's a lie. 

Nell. What? 

Mose. [Comes down l.] Why, Marse Tom. 

Tom. Thank God — I'm regaining my memory. This is 
the picture of my wife whom I left — God knows how many 
years ago — thinking to return in a few short months. Then 
that awful fall in the mountains of Switzerland — and then 
darkness — and a vain struggling to remember. 

Nell, The mountains of Switzerland — that is how 
Thomas Osbourne lost his life. 

Tom. I am Thomas Osbourne. 

Nell. Of The Maples? 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 49 

Tom. Of The Maples. It is all coming back to me — one 
thing at a time — until my brain is ready to burst. I have 
known nothing — not even my own name — until I saw you 
standing there before me the very likeness of my Eleanor. 
I believed for an instant it was her spirit. Tell me, how 
long has this condition lasted? 

Nell. My mother has been dead fifteen years. 

Tom. Fifteen years. [Pause — looks at Nell.] You 
speak of this lady as your mother? 

Nell. Yes. 

Tom. Then if that be true, you are my daughter. [Holds 
out his arms to Nell.] 

Nell. [Runs to him, throws her arms about his neck.] 
Oh, Mr. Tom, I've found a father at last. 

Tom. Can it be true; out of this awful wreck of a human 
life one jewel is left me, my daughter. Oh, my Eleanor, 
how I shall cherish you. 

Mose. If you please be so kind, Marse Tom, won't you 
tell me what all dis am about? 

Tom. Mose, old friend,, I told you it would not be long 
before my prayers would be answered. I have regained my 
daughter and my name tonight. 

Mose. You don't mean to tell me you is dat Mr. Thomas 
Osbourne dat has been dead all dese years ? 

Tom. I am Thomas Osbourne; The Maples is my home. 

Nell. But Mr. Ryder has The Maples ; we'll be taking it 
away from him. 

Mose. From what I knows of dat young man he'll be 
tickled to death when he learns who is getting it. 

Nell. Oh, Mr, Tom, it all seems too strange to be true. 
I hope I don't wake and find it all a dream. 

Tom. No, my child; the dream is o'er; the awakening 
has come at last. 

[Tom l. c. Nell c. Mose l. c] 

CURTAIN 



50 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 



ACT THE FOURTH 

Same as Act II. No snow falling. Bright light. 
Morning of the day after Christmas. At rise of curtain, 
Susan is standing at window looking out. 

[Elizabeth enters, l. 2. e.] 

Elizabeth. Where is father ? 

Susan. Gone down to the village to look for Nell — 
he has been gone some time. 

Elizabeth. [Comes l. c] I heard him come home this 
morning, but I didn't come down to breakfast — because I 
didn't want to meet him. 

Susan. He didn't eat any breakfast himself. 

Elizabeth. Of course he blames us? 

Susan. [Comes c] Of course he does. I told him she 
went of her own accord, but he won't believe it. 

Elizabeth. Where could she have gone last night? 

Susan. I wouldn't care where she went if your father 
would only be reasonable about it. He carried on as if 
it were his own child. As for me — I'm glad she's gone. 

Elizabeth. Where is Jerry? 

Susan. He is searching for her, too — tracking about in 
the snow since six o'clock this morning. 

Elizabeth. Why do you allow him to do it? 

Susan. Allow him? He almost raised the roof off the 
house when I tried to keep him here. She has succeeded 
in ruining that boy until he is entirely beyond my con- 
trol. 

[David's voice heard outside.] 

Elizabeth. There's father now — I don't want to see 
him. [Exit l.] 

[Enter David c. d.] 

Susan. Well, have you heard anything? 
David. No, no one in the village has seen her. 
Susan. Don't you think you'd better have some break- 
fast, David? 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 51 

David. No, I'll not sit down at that table until Nellie 
sits there with me. Where is Jerry? 

Susan. He has gone to look for her. 

David. Well, tell him I want to see him when he comes 
in. [Exit r. u.] 

Susan. [Comes down c] Where could she have gone? 

[Enter Arabella, c. d.] 

Arabella. Land sakes, Susan. I've just heard about 
it, and I thought I'd break my neck getting here. Is it true 
— has she disappeared just the way her mother did? 

Susan. How did you know, Arabella? 

Arabella. Good gracious, almost everybody in the vil- 
lage knows it by this time — news travels fast. Do you 
know what I says when I heard it — I says, "I'm glad of 
it, for Susan Moore's sake, for that girl has been the bane 
of her life." 

Susan. Well, I'll have to take her back again, when they 
find her ; so I don't see what I've gained. 

Arabella. Susan — don't you do it. If I was in your 
place, I'd never let her light inside that door again. 

Susan. But you haven't got a husband, Arabella. 

Arabella. No, thank heaven, I haven't. 

[Enter David r. u.] 

David. Hasn't that boy come in yet? 
Susan. No; he'll be laid up with a cold if he keeps 
this up. 

[Jerry heard outside,] 

David. Here he is now. 

[David r. u. Arabella up stage c. Susan l. c] 
[Enter Jerry out of breath.'] 

Jerry. I've found her. 

Susan and Arabella. What — where? 

David. [Pats Jerry on shoulder.] Good boy, Jerry — 
where is she? 

Jerry. At Wanderin' Tom's cabin. First, I went up to 
The Maples and asked Mr. Ryder if he had seen her. 

Susan. What did he say? 



52 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

Jerry. He said a whole lot of things — but he didn't 
lose any time gettin' into his coat to go look for her. Then 
I happened to think of Wanderin' Tom, and we went there 
— and there she was as warm as toast, and happy as an 
angel. 

Susan. Happy ! 

Jerry. Yep ; there's somethin' goin' on there that I didn't 
wait to hear about; I knew Dad would be worried, so I hur- 
ried home. But Mr. Ryder stayed, and he'll tell you all 
about it. 

David. Is Nell coming home? 

Jerry. Yes- — they're all comin'. Mr. Ryder says you 
can prepare for a surprise. 

Susan. A surprise — what can he mean? 

Arabella. Land sakes — I hate this suspense — ain't it 
awful, Susan? 

[Enter Elizabeth l. 2. e.] 

Elizabeth. Has Jerry learned anything? 

David. Yes, Nell is found and is coming home. Now 
that you are all here, I want it understood that the child 
must be received with kindness. If anything had happened 
to her last night, I'd never have forgiven you as long as I 
lived. You understand me, Elizabeth? 

Elizabeth. Yes, father; I'm glad she's found. 

[Enter Templeton, c. d.] 

Dr. Templeton. Good morning everybody. 
All. [Ad lib.~\ Good morning, etc. 

Dr. Templeton. I met. Mr. Ryder on the way; he has 
stopped to speak to someone ; .he'll be here in a moment. 
David. He told you about Nellie? 
Dr. Templeton. Yes — I'm heartily glad she is found. 

[Goes to Elizabeth l.] 

[Enter Ryder.] 

David. Good morning, Mr. Ryder; have you brought 
Nellie with you? 

Ryder. Yes — they are coming. I came on ahead to tell 
you what has happened. The man you have all known as 



THE BUST OF THE EARTH 53 

Wandering Tom is Thomas Osbourne, who was supposed to 
have died in Switzerland fifteen years ago. 

All. What! Impossible ! etc. [Ad lib.] 

Ryder. That isn't all. You remember the story of 
Thomas Osbourne— how he quarreled with his mother and 
left The Maples one summer seventeen years ago ? 

David. I'll never forget it. It was the same year my 
sister Eleanor left us. 

Ryder. Ah — those two events are closely related. Thomas 
Osbourne and Eleanor Moore left here together and were 
secretly married in New York. 

Susan. Married ! 

Ryder. This marriage was the cause of the quarrel be- 
tween himself and mother. When his mother's health re- 
quired it, he left his wife in New York, well provided for, 
returned here and took his mother to Europe, fully expect- 
ing to return in a few months and make known his mar- 
riage. Well — then came that fall in the mountains, the 
total loss of memory following it — and these years of fruit- 
less wandering. 

David. How came he back here? 

Ryder. That he cannot explain except that some instinct 
stronger than himself drew him to his old home. 

David. Then he is the real owner of The Maples ? 

Ryder. Yes, I am only a distant relative of the Os- 
bournes ; the property belongs to him. 

Susan. What was it that made him remember? 

Ryder. Seeing Nellie standing before him last night in 
her mother's dress — it was her mother's wedding gown. 

Arabella. Why didn't Eleanor tell of the wedding? 

David. My sister was unconscious when we lifted her 
from the floor that Christmas night, and she never regained 
consciousness except at the very last when she indicated to 
me that she wanted her baby to have her gown and locket. 

Susan. And she wore no wedding ring. 

Ryder. That was in her husband's possession — when he 
started for Europe she took it from her finger and bade him 
wear it until his return. He gave it to Nellie last night. 

Arabella. Well, I'm almost too dumfounded to speak. 
To think she has been an heiress all this time. But I must 
say for myself — I always did consider her a lady. 



54 THE DUST OF THE EARTH 

Ryder. I think they are coming. [Opens door.'] 
[Enter Nell with Tom and Mose. Nell runs to David r.] 

David. [His arms about Nell.] My little girl — wel- 
come home. 

[Nell takes Tom's hand and leads him to Susan l. c] 

Nell. This is my father, Aunt Sue. 

Tom. I thank you, madam, for the care of my daughter. 
Susan. I suppose Nellie feels rather bitter toward me. 
Nell. I'm too happy to do that, Aunt Sue; I'm willing 
to forget if you are. 

[Elizabeth approaches Nell c] 

Elizabeth. Won't you shake hands with me, Nellie? 
Nell. [Takes her hand.] With all my heart, Elizabeth. 
Elizabeth. You must feel awkward in that old fashioned 
dress ; won't you wear one of my new ones today ? 

Nell. No, I wouldn't change this today for anything. 

[Takes off cloak.] 

Arabella. [Comes to Nell.] My dear child, I congrat- 
ulate you. You know I always took an interest in you. 

Nell. Yes, I know you did, Miss Arabella. Aunt Sue, 
my father and Mose and I have had nothing but corncakes 
this morning; will you give us some breakfast? 

Susan. My dear child — the breakfast is on the table; 
but nobody would touch a thing until you were found. [Goes 
to r. u. e.] Come, everybody, please. [All go up to r. u. e. 
and exit except Arabella, who is l. c. Ryder who is r. 
and Nell and Tom who are r. c] Arabella, will you stay? 

Arabella. Land sakes, yes, did you ever see me refuse? 

[Exit quickly r. u. e.] 

[Nell leads Tom up to r. u. e. and motions for him to go, 

she wants to speak to Ryder. Tom 

understands and exit quietly.] 

Nell. [Comes to Ryder.] Are you sorry this has hap- 
pened ? 

Ryder, [Turns and takes her hands.] Sorry, Why, NelV 



THE DUST OF THE EARTH 55. 

I'm more than glad that you have come into your own 
again. 

Nell. What were you going to say to me yesterday when 
Aunt Sue caught us ? 

Ryder. Yesterday. You were a poor little girl yester- 
day, Nell. Today you are heiress to the largest estate in the 
county. It wouldn't be fair to say today what I intended 
to say yesterday. 

Nell. [Takes wedding ring off her finger.] Here's my 
mother's wedding ring. [Holds out her hand.] Put it on 
— won't you? 

Ryder. [Takes ring from her and slips it on her out- 
stretched finger. Raises her hand to his lips and kisses it.] 

Nell. Now, won't you say it? 

Ryder. No, Nell, I can't. 

Nell. [Disappointed, turns and walks slowly to c] 
And I thought I was going to be so happy today. 

Ryder. [Goes r. c] Why, Nell, I can't ask you to marry 
me. I'm only a pauper. [Throws his arms out.] 

Nell. Then I'll ask you, for what am I, but the "Dust 
of the Earth." [Nell runs to him, he holds her in his 
arms.] 

CURTAIN 



Because 1 Love You 

Drama in Four Acts 

By JOHN A. FRASER 

kiithor Of "A Woman's Honor," "A Noble Outcast," "A Modem 

Ananias," "Santiago," etc. 

Price, 25 cents 

Eight male, four female characters. Plays two hours. Modern 
costumes. This is probably the strongest drama written of the 
modern romantic style. It is a pure love story and its sentiment 
and pathos are of the sterling, honest kind which appeals to every 
man and woman with a human heart. The stage business will be 
found extremely novel, but easily accomplished. The climaxes are 
all new and tremendously effective. One climax especially has 
never been surpassed. 

CAST OF CHARACTERS 

Imogene Courtleigh. Wilful, wayward and wealthy. .. .Juvenile lead 

Ginger. A Gypsy waif Soubrette 

Nance Tyson. Her supposed mother Character- 
Prudence Freeheart. A poor relation Old maid comedy 

Horace Verner. An artist and accidentally a married man 

Juvenile lead 

Dick Potts. Hi^ chum and incidentally in love with Ginger. 

Eccentric comedy 

Ira Courtleigh. Imogene's guardian Heavy 

Buck Tyson. A Gypsy tinker Character comedy 

Elmer Van Sittert. Anglomaniac, New Yorker Dude comedy 

Major Duffy. County Clerk and Confederate veteran 

Irish comedy 

Squire Ripley. A Virginia landlord Character old man 

Lige. A gentleman of color Negro character 

Note: Squire Ripley and Van Sittert may double. 

SYNOPSIS OF SCENES 

Act 1. "The George Washington," a country tavern in old Vir- 
ginia. An impromptu wedding. "When I was on the boards at 
old Pott's theayter." "Horace has fallen in love and has done 
nothing but rave about her ever since." "The marriage ceremony 
performed, I depart, and you will make no attempt ever to see me 
again." "Except at your own request, never!" 

Act 2. Lovers' Leap, a Blue Mountain precipice. A daring res- 
cue. "Gold does not always purchase happiness, lady." "Do you 
ever feel the need of a faithful friend?" "I do, I do, I'm thinking of 
buying a bulldog." "Look at the stride of him, and Imogene 
gifting him as if he were a part of herself." Within twenty feet 
■of certain death. "Gone? Without even my thanks for such a 
deed of desperate heroism?" 

Act. 3. The Courtleigh Place. A woman's folly. "And you saj 
his father was a gentleman?" "I have already refused to sign the 
document." "Stand back, she is my wife." 

Act. 4. The "Mountain Studio.'* "You're too good to let that 
Frencn girl get you." "I struck him full in the face and the chal- 
lenge followed." "You will not meet this man, dear love?" "It 
shall, at least, be blow for blow." "I'll release you from youf 
pTomise. Fight that man." "I'm the happiest man in old Vir» 
fcinia, because you love me." 

Address Orders to 
THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 



^apt* Kac&et 

\ Comedy m Three Acts 

By CHARLES TOWNSEND 



Price, 25 cents 



This play by Mr. Townsentf is probably one of his most popular 
productions; it certainly is one of his best. It is full of action irGra 
start to finish. Comic situations rapidly follow one after another, 
and the act endings are especially strong and lively. Every char- 
acter is good and affords abundant opportunity for effective work. 
Can be player" by five men and three women, if desired. The 
same scene is used for ail the acts, and it is an easy interior. A 
most excellen / play for repertoire companies. No seeker for a 
good play can afford to ignore it. 

CHARACTERS 

CAPT. ROBERT RACKET, one of the National Guard. A lawyer 

when he has nothing else to do, and a liar all the time 

... Comedy lead 

C JADIAH DAWSON, his uncle, from Japan, "where they make 
tQ'cS' Comedy old man 

TIMOTHY TOLMAN, his friend, who married for money, and is 
sorry for it. Juvenile man 

MR. DALROY, his father-in-law, jolly old cove Eccentric 

HOBSON, waiter from the "Cafe Gloriana," who adds to the 
eonx^ion Utility 

CLARICE, the Captain's pretty wife, out ilor a lark, and up to 
"anything awful' ' , Comedy lead 

MRS. TOLMAN, a lady with a temper, who finds her Timothy a 
vexation of spirit Old woman 

KATY, a mischievous maid Soubrette 

TOOTSY, the "Kid," Tim's olive branch Props. 

SYNOPSIS 

Act I. Place: Tim's country home on the Hudson near New 
York. Time: A breezy morning in September. The Captain's 
fancy takes a flight and trouble begins. 

Act II. Place: the same. Time: the next morning. How one 

yarn requires another. "The greatest liar unhung." Now the 
trouble increases and the Captain prepares for war. 

Act III. Place: the same. Time: Evening of the same day. 
More misery. A general muddle. "Dance or you'll die." Cornered 
at last. The Captain owns up. All serene. 

Time of playing: Two hours. 

Address Orders to 

THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO. ILLINOIS 



>e 



Uncle Ruh 

An Original Homestead Play In Four Acts 

By CHARLES TOWNSEND 
Tbe Finest Rural Drama Ever Published 



Price, 25 cent* 



CHARACTERS 

RUBEN RODNEY (Uncle Rube), Justice of the Peace, Schodi 

Trustee, and a master hand at "swappin' hosses". .. .Character lead 

SIMON SMAELEY, a smooth and cunning - old villain 

Character heavy 

MARK, his son, a promising young rascal Straight heavy 

GORDON GRAY, a popular young artist Juvenile lead 

UPSON ASTERBILT, an up-to-date New York dude 

.j. Character comedy. 

IKE, the hired man. "I want ter know:" Eccentric 

BUB GREEN, a comical young rustic Low comedy 

BILL. TAPPAN, a country constable Comedy 

MILLICENT LEE, "the pretty school teacher".. Juvenile lady 

MRS. MARTHA BUNN, a charming widow. .. .Character comedy 

TAGGS, a waif from New York Soubrette 

Time— Mid Autumn. Place— Vermont. 

Time of playing — Two hours and a quarter. 

SYNOPSIS 
ACT I. The Old Homestead. Uncle Rube arrives. 
ACT II. The Constable's office. The plot to ruin Uncle Rubei, 
ACT III. Evening at the old farm. Uncle Rube is arrested. 
ACT IV. The Constable's office again. The old farmer wins! 

This play was written by one of the most popular of American 
dramatists, whose works have sold by the hundreds of thousands. 
One of the best plays of its class ever written. Splendid characters. 
Powerful climaxes. Bright wit. Merry humor. Very easy to pro- 
duce. Requires only three scenes. No shifts of scenery during any 
act. Costumes all modern. No difficult properties required. 

THE AUTHOR'S OPINIONJ 

MR. TOWNSEND says of this drama: "I consider that 'Uncle 
>lube' is far superior to any play depicting country life that I have 
yet written." 

This is the play for everybody — amateurs as well as professionals. 
It can be produced on any stage, and pleases all classes, from the 
most critical city audiences to those of the smallest country towns 
Printed directly from the author's acting copy, with all the original 
stage directions. 

Address Orders to 
THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

Chicago. b-unqjs / 



The Spinsters* Convention 

(The Original 
Old Maids' Convention) 



Price, 25 cents 



An evening's entertainment which is always a sure hit and 
a money-maker. Has been given many hundred times by 
schools, societies and churches, with the greatest success. An 
evening of refined fun. It requires from twelve to twenty 
ladies and two gentlemen, although ladies may take the two 
male parts. A raised platform with curtains at the back is 
all the stage requires, but a fully equipped opera stage may 
be utilized and to great advantage. 

Eidiculous old maid costumes, with all their frills and fur* 
belows, their cork-screw curls, mittens, work bags, bird cages, 
etc., are the proper costumes. Later on in the program some 
pretty young women in modern evening dress are required. 
The latter should each be able to give a number of a mis* 
cellaneous program, that is, be able to sing, play some instru- 
ment, dance, whistle or recite well. 

This entertainment utilizes all sorts of talent, and give»j 
each participant a good part. Large societies can give every 
member something to do. 

SYNOPSIS 

Gathering of the Members of the Society— The Roll-Call— Thfe 
Greeting- Song- — Minutes of the last meeting — Report of The Treas- 
urer — Music: "Sack Waltz" — A paper on Woman's Rights — Song: 
"No One to Love, None to Caress." — Reading of "Marriage Statis- 
tics" — The Advent of the Mouse — Initiation of two Candidates into 
the Society — The Psalm of Marriage — Secretary's Report on Eligible 
Men — A Petition to Congress — Original Poem by Betsy Bobbett— 
Song: "Why Don't the Men Propose?" — Report of The Vigilance 
Committee — An Appeal to the Bachelors — Prof. Make-over— The 
Remodelscope.-Testimonials — The Transformation and a miscfti* 
laneous program. 

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CHICAGO- II J-INOIS 



Hickfry harm 

A Comedy Drama of New England Lite 
sn Two Acts 



Br EDWIN M. STERN 



Price, 25 cents 



Six male, two female characters. The play deals with the same 
phases of life as "The Old Homestead" and "The County Fair," 
and is written in the same comedy vein which has rendered these 
two pieces so popular. The courtship of the Irish alderman is one 
of the most ludicrous scenes ever written, while the scenes between 
the old farmer and his daughter are most touching and pathetic 
Scenery, a set cottage and a plain room. Costumes of the day. 
Time of playing, an hour and a half. 



i 

SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS 
ACT I — Hick'ry Farm House 

Darkwood's Plot — Skinner tempted — Money! Gold! — Zekiel ap- 
pears — "Be you Ann Maria's boy?" — Fortune's reminiscences — The 
deed must be stolen! — Hard cider — Aunt Priscilla's love — The alder- 
man's brogue — "Dear departed Hezekiah" — Jessie's secret — "Then 
you still love me?" — "Larry McKeegan's courtin' " — The "widdy" 
succumbs — "Zekiel's fav'rit' song" — McKeegan's ghost — Jack Nel- 
son makes a discovery — Jessie has gone! — "Heaven help me!"— 
Zekiel's prayer. 

ACT II — In Fortune's Shanty 

Zekiel's misfortunes — The rent collector — Darkwood's insult— 
"Villain, you lie!" — Skinner's remorse — The New York detective — 
The bank robbery — Darkwood threatens — Jessie returns — The alder- 
man married — "Sure it's a darlint little woife she is" — Zekiel's hap- 
piness — "Gcsh! I ain't felt so gol-darned happy sinct I wuz a bos''" 
— A trap for Darkwood — Jack and Jessie reunited — Priscilla paci- 
fied — Darkwood at bay — "Stand aside, as you value your lives!"— 
The detective fires — "You've done for me this time!" — Zekiel's for^ 
|ive«ess — Old Hick'ry farm restored. 

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CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 



joe Ruggies 

OR 

THE GIRL MINER 

A Comedy Drama in Four Acts 

By FRANK J. DEAN 
Price, 25 cents 

Xir.e male, three female character?. A vigorous, stbrine r>?av. 
depicting peculiar types of life in a large city and in the mining 
districts of the West. The parts of Joe Ruggies. the miner. Hans 
Von Bush (Dutch dialect), and Richard Hamilton, the scheming 
villain, all afford opportunity foi slevei work; -rale the part of 
Madge (soubretteb who afterwards assumes the character of Mark 
Lynch, is an excellent one for a bright young acvress. 

Scenery — City street, showing R. R. Station; rocky pass, with 
set cabins; a wood scene uad twc plain interiors Cos'ftmies of the 
£ay. Time of playing, two and a half hours. 

SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS 

ACT I — Entrance to Railroad Station 
Looking for a victim — Joe Ruggies — '"Them galoots is worse than 
gTizzlies" — "Morning papers" — Madge and Bess plying their trades — - 
"Can't you sing Joe a song?" — Hamilton and his pal .confer — Tom 
Howarth gains inportant information — "Don't you dare to lay 
hands on us!'* — Hamilton tries to maintain his authoritv — "Who? 
Old Joe:" 

ACT II — Doomsday's Hotel, Dare-devil's Gtdc&s California 
The landlord secures a guest — Hans disappointed — "Dot is a mis- 
date" — A ghost story — The "Kid and his sister" — "Did I hurt your 
highness?" — Hans and Doomsday have another talk — Kate Laurel 
meets the young miner — "Yah, dot vas vot I finks" — Madge's dis- 
guise penetrated — She recognizes an old enemy — "Now. George 
Smith, take 3*our choice" — Joe Ruggies as a t/amp — "Ef yer think 
yer can pick on me because I'm nan some ye'll find me ter hum" — 
Hamilton appears — "Those two youngsters are mine" — The trami> 
takes a hand. 

ACT HI — "Wood Scene 

A lively ghost — Hamilton and Smith plan more villainy — Old Joe 
thinks of turning Detective — Kate Laurel again — "There is a secret 
connected with my life" — Kate's confession— "What do you mean, 
sir?" — Tom Howarth once more — "Vos you looking for a hotel?" — ■ 
Planning an abduction — Old Joe as an Irishman — "Phat does yez 
want wid me?" — Undertakes to be a detective — Takes a han<? in 
the abduction — "Do .it at your peril." 

ACT rv 
Hans hears, and tells, the latest news— "I nefer pelieved dot 
spook peesness" — Kate Laurel astonished — Hamilton attempts 
flight — "De povs haf got Mr. Hamilton, und dey vill gif him a 
necktie barty" — Arrest of* Smith — "Get out mit my vay, I vas de- 
United States Mail" — Tom meets his old friend under new circum- 
stances — "Do ycu want me, Tom?" — Old Joe gives consent — -A 
*appy ending. 

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THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO. II IJNOIS 



The Outcast's Daughter £ fZTacu 

By MARION EDDY PRICE, 25 CENTS 

Ten male, five female and one child characters. Plays two and 
one-half hours. Modern costumes. Three interior, one exterior 
scenes, all easily arranged where there is any scenery at hand. No 
stronger melodrama has been given the play-lcvmg public. Full of 
the strongest appealing heart interest, intense, pathetic, real life, 
where joy and laughter are mingled with pathos and suffering, but 
all ending happily. A melodrama without a villain or the 'use of 
firearms. Amateurs may play it successfully, it plays itself, and 
it is adapted to strong repertoire companies. 

CAST OF CHARACTERS 

Carl Faber An ex-convict 

Howard Ross , A manufacturer 

Dennis Hogan Servant to Ross 

Abel Gardener to Ross 

Judge Havens Of the police court 

Recorder Of the police court 

Lettner Clerk of police court 

Second Court Clerk Clerk of police court 

Two policemen 

Little Hugo Agatha's child 

Agatha Sterne Ross' bookkeeper 

Ida Rheinhold A retired singer 

Mrs. Wilmuth A washerwoman 

Katie ( Factory girl 

Frances Factory girl 

SYNOPSIS OF SCENES 

Act 1. Ross' private office. "What has given me the honor of 
this visit?" "I will never sing again. My life has been a sad 
failure." "Good God! My mother!" "I have done wrong, I confess, 
but when a mother asks, a child must forgive. Oh, Mr. Ross, help 
me." "You, my rich and famous mother, to you I was nothing, 
and you— you are nothing — nothing to me." "Agatha! Agatha! 
My child! My child!" 

Act 2. Agatha's attic. "My poor father. So young and strong. 
How I could have loved him." "Yes, Katie is right, I have nothing 
but bread for my sweet child." "Madam, I vould lie if I say she 
vas anything but a lady." "On the other side, towards the garden,' 
there are a few rooms I have never used. If you will take 
them " "You do not look like a man who could commit mur- 
der. How was it?" "I was a weak man and many misfortunes 
made me desperate." "My picture! I must be mad." "You are 
good, child, but you shall not call me father." "Father! Father!" 

Act 3. Ross' Garden. "He is so good to me, but I cannot forget 
my poor unhappy father." "The picture was taken when I was 
young. He shall have it." "Stay here and be my wife." "That 
suspicious old man is in the garden." "For her I sacrificed every- 
thing." "Do you want to go to prison again?" "My father needs 
me to defend and comfort him." 

Act 4. A Police Court. "Do not ask me, your honor — I am an 
«x-convict." "Your silence will not help you." "It vas dark unci 
Mrs. Sterne vas that scared she vas faint." "I hope, sor, yer honor 
believes in a future life, sor." "He wished to see his chil<7 ; I am 
hi! ehild." "Grandfather, we love you." "I am his wife. Do not 
cOii.emn him." 

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THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING CQfiffPANY 

CHICAGO. &ONQ» - - - 



A Woman^s Honor 

A Drama In Four Acts 

By JOHN A. FRASER 
Atttnor of "A Noble Outcast," "Santiago," "Modern Ananw,* etc. 

Price, 25 cents 

Seven male, three female characters. Plays two hours. For 
fntense dramatic action, thrilling climaxes, uproarious comedy and 
a story of absorbing romantic interest, actors, either professional 
o? amateur, will find few plays to equal "A Woman's Honor." 
With careful rehearsals they will find a sure hit is made every time 
without difficulty, 

CAST OF CHARACTERS 

General Mark Lester. A Hero of the Cuban Ten Years' War.. Lead 

Pedro Mendez. His half brother Heavy 

Dr. Garcia. Surgeon of the Madaline Straight 

Gilbert Hall, M. D. In love with Olive Juvenile 

Robert Glenn. A Wall Street Banker Old man 

Gregory Grimes. Lester's Private Secretary Eccentric Comedy 

Ebenezer. Glenn's Butler Negro Comedy 

Olive S Glenn's \ Juvenile lead 

Sally I Daughters J Soubrette 

Maria. Wife of Pedro Character 

NOTE. — Glenn and Garcia may double. 
Act 1. The Glenn Mansion, New York City. 

Act 2. The Isle of Santa Cruz, off San Domingo. One month 
later. 

Acts 3 and 4. Lester's home at Santa Cruz, Five months later. 
Between Acts 3 and 4 one day elapses. 

SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS 

Act 1. Handsome drawingroom at Glenn's. Sally and Ebenezer. 
1 isn't imputtinent, no, no. Missy." "Papa can't bear Gregory 
Jrimes, but I'm going to marry him, if I feel like it." "Going 
away?" "I was dizzy for a moment, that was all." "This mar- 
riage is absolutely necessary to prevent my disgrace." "General 
Lester, you are a noble man and I will repay my father's debt of 
honor." "Robert Glenn is dead." 

Act 2. Isle of Santa Cruz. "Mark brings his American bride to 
his home today." "You and I and our child will be no better than 
Servants." "How can I help but be happy with one so good and 
kind?" "It means that I am another man's wife." "Dat's mine; 
don't you go to readin' my lub lettahs in public." 

Act 3. Sitting-room in Lester's house. "What has happened?" 
"Is my husband safe?" "Break away, give your little brother a 
chance." "To tell the truth, my heart is breaking." "Debt of 
duty! and I was fool enough to think she loved me." 

Act 4. "The illness of the general has an ugly look." "The 
gossips have it she would rejoice to be rid of her husband." "The 
Gilbert Hall I loved is dead." "Standing on the brink of the grave, 
my vision is clearer." "Forgive, and I will devote my life to 
making you happy in order to repay the debt I owe you — a debt of 
honor." 

Address Order s to 

THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

SFJCAGO. ILLINOIS. 



Diamonds and Hearts 

A Comedy Drama in Three Acts 

By EFFIE W. MERRIMAN 

Price, 25 cents 

This play has become one of the most popular in America. The 
good plot, the strong "heart" interest, and the abundant comedy 
all combine to make a most excellent drama. "Bub" Barnes is a 
fine character of the Josh Whitcomb type, and his sister is a worthy 
companion "bit." Sammy is an excruciatingly funny little darkey. 
The other characters are good. Fine opportunity for introducing 
specialties. The play has so many good points that it never fails 
to be a success. 

CAST OF CHARACTERS 

BERNICE HALSTEAD, a young lady of eighteen, with an affec- 
tion of the heart, a love for fun and hatred of arithmetic 

AMY HALSTEAD, her sister, two years younger, fond of frolic. 

INEZ GRAY, a young lady visitor, willing to share in the fun. . . . 

MRS. HALSTEAD, a widow, and stepmother of the Halstead girls 

HANNAH MARY BARNES, or "Sis," a maiden lady who keeps 
house for her brother 

DWIGHT BRADLEY, a fortune hunter and Mrs. Halstead's son 
by a former marriage 

DR. BURTON, a young physician 

SAMMY, the darkey bell-boy in the Halstead house 

ABRAHAM BARNES, or "Bub," a yankee farmer, still unmar- 
ried at forty — a diamond in the rough 

i^TORNEY; SHERIFF 

Time of playing, two hours. 
Two interior scenes. Modern costumes. 

SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS 

Act. 1. Parlor of the Halstead home. The young doctor. The 
three girls plot to make his acquaintance. An affection of the heart. 
"Easy to fool a young doctor," but not so easy after all. The step- 
mother and her son. The stolen diamonds. The missing will. 
Plot to win Bernice. "I would not marry Dwight Bradley for all 
the wealth the world contains." Driven from home. 

Act 2. Kitchen of the Barnes' farm house. Bub takes off his 
boots. The new school ma'am. "Supper's ready." "This is out 
nephew and he's a doctor." Recognition. A difficult problem in, 
arithmetic. The doctor to the rescue. "I'm just the happiest gir] 
In the world." "I've come to pop the question, an' why don't 1 
do i '?" Brother and sister. "If it's a heifer, it's teh be mine." 
The sheriff. Arrested for stealing the diamonds. "Let me knock 
yer durned head off." The jewels found in Bernice's trunk. 

Act 3. Parlor of the Halstead home. "That was a lucky stroKe 
— hiding those diamonds in her trunk." The schemer's plot miscar- 
ries. Abe and Sammy join hands. The lawyer. "Bully for her." 
Bradley tries to escape. "No, ye don't!" Arrested. "It means, 
dear, that you are to be persecuted no more." Wedding presents, 
and a war dance around them. "It is no trick at all to fool a 
yotf^g doctor." 

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THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 



' a ' > 



Hageman* s Make-Up Book 

By MAURICE HAGEMAN 

Price, 25 cents 

The iiw^ortance of an effective make-up is becoming more appar« 
ent to the professional actor every year, but hitherto there has been 
no book on the subject describing the modern methods and at the 
same time covering all branches of the art. This want has now 
been filled. Mr. Hageman has had an experience of twenty years 
as actor and stage-manager, and his well-known literary ability has 
enabled him to put the knowledge so gained into shape to be of 
use to others. 1 he book is an encyclopedia of the art of making up. 
Every branch of the subject is exhaustively treated, and few ques- 
tions can be asked by professional or amateur that cannot be an- 
swered by this admirable hand-book. It is not only the best make* 
up book ever published, but it is not likely to be superseded by 
any other. It is absolutely indispensable to every ambitious actor. 

CONTENTS 

Chapter I. General Remarks. 

Chapter II. Grease* Paints, their origin, components and use. 

Chapter III. The Make-up Box. Grease-Paints, Mirrors, Face 
Powder and Puff, Exora Cream, Rouge, Liquid Color, Grenadine, 
Blue for the Eyelids, Brilliantine for the Hair, Nose Putty, Wig 
Paste, Mascaro, Crape Hair, Spirit Gum, Scissors, Artists' Stomps, 
Cold Cream, Cocoa Butter, Recipes for Cold Cream. 

Chapter IV. Preliminaries before Making up; the Straight Make* 
up and how to remove it. 

Chapter V. Remarks to Ladies. Liquid Creams, Rouge, Lips, 
Eyebrows, Eyelashes, Character Roles, Jewelry, Removing Make-up. 

Chapter VI. Juveniles. Straight Juvenile Make-up, Society 
Men, Young Men in 111 Health, with Red Wigs, Rococo Make-up, 
Hands, Wrists, Cheeks, etc. 

Chapter VII. Adults, Middle Aged and Old Men. Ordinary Type 
of Manhood, Lining Colors, Wrinkles, Rouge, Sickly and Healthy 
Old Age, Ruddy Complexions. 

Chapter VIII. Comedy and Character Make-ups. Comedy Ef- 
fects, Wigs, Beards, Eyebrows, Noses, Lips, Pallor of Death. 

Chapter IX. The Human Features. The Mouth and Lips, the 
Eyes and Eyelids, the Nose, the Chin, the Ear, the Teeth. 

Chapter X. Other Exposed Parts of the Human Anatomy. 

Chapter XI. Wigs, Beards, Moustaches, and Eyebrows. Choosing 
a Wig, Powdering the Hair, Dimensions for Wigs, Wig Bands, Bald 
Wigs, Ladies' Wigs, Beards on Wire, on Gauze, Crape Hair, Wool, 
Beards for Tramps, Moustaches, Eyebrows. 

Chapter XII. Distinctive and Traditional Characteristics. North 
American Indians, New England Farmers, Hoosiers, Southerners, 
Politicians, Cowboys, Minors, Quakers, Tramps, Creoles, Mulattoes, 
Quadroons, Octoroons, Negroes, Soldiers during War, Soldiers dur- 
ing Peace, Scouts, Pathfinders, Puritans, Early Dutch Settlers, 
Englishmen, Scotchmen, Irishmen, Frenchmen, Italians, Spaniards, 
Portuguese, South Americans, Scandinavians, Germans, Hollanders, 
Hungarians, Gipsies, Russians, Turks, Arabs, Moors, Caffirs, Abys* 
sinians, Hindoos, Malays, Chinese, Japanese, Clowns and Statuary 4 
Hebrews, Drunkards, Lunatics, Idiots, Misers, Rogues. 

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THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY 

CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 




And Entertainment Books. 

^HjEING the largest theatrical booksellers in 
W the United States, we keep in stock the most 
complete and best assorted lines of plays and en- 
tertainment books to be found anywhere. 

We can supply any play or book pub- 
lished. We have issued a catalogue of the best 
plays and entertainment books published in 
America and England. It contains a full 
description of each play, giving number of char- 
acters, time of playing, scenery, costumes, etc. 
This catalogue will be sent free on application. 

The plays described are suitable for ama- 
teurs and professionals, and nearly all of them 
may be played free of royalty. Persons inter- 
ested in dramatic books should examine our cat- 
alogue before ordering elsewhere. 

We also carry a full line of grease paints, 
face powders, hair goods, and other "m&ive-up" 
materials. 

The Dramatic Publishing Company 
CHICAGO 



